Why's Life So Unfair
by Bella Lilac
Summary: Summer has just started, Schools out. Ponyboy is now into all kinds of trouble... but trouble is just starting and he can't stop it from coming. Includes Swearing, Spanking, Drugs.
1. Have you been drinking?

I do not own The Outsiders or any of the characters, they belong to S.E. Hinton.

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_Life can be unfair sometimes, but that's no reason to give up on it._

\- Unknown

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Summer was finally here, which meant school was out, and that meant Darry constantly on my back to keep outta trouble. I'm lying on my bed having the luxury of not having to get up early. I rolled over onto my side to see what the time is, the bedside clock read 10:16, with a soft groan I sat up and slid out of my warm comfy bed. I hunted through the messy pile of clothing that had been tossed carelessly on our bedroom floor for a pair of jeans and t-shirt, finding some that were at least half clean, I threw them on; then made a mental note to self to do laundry before Darry gets home. I wandered into the kitchen to see what leftovers were left from breakfast, on a plate in the middle of the table sat a couple of eggs and a slice of bacon, next to the plate sat a note;

Clean up house BEFORE leaving

Back at 6:00

\- Darry

I frowned at the note scrunching it up and tossing it into the trash, then eyed the eggs and bacon sitting on the plate poking them a few times with my finger, they had gone stone cold. I picked up the plate tipping the food into the trash like I had done so with the note, then placed the plate in the sink to wash later on. I looked around the house there was a deck of cards left scattered on the coffee table, Darry's paper left and forgotten on the floor next to the armchair, Two-Bit's empty beer bottles, dishes lay untouched in the sink, and of course that dreaded washing heap that still awaits on mine and Soda's bedroom floor.

I picked up the scattered cards putting them into an at least neat pile, then scooped up Two-Bit's beer bottles to put in the trash, as I picked up the bottles I noticed one still had a bit over half left in it. I placed the empty bottles in the trash, but kept the half full one - swirling the liquid around in the glass bottle, watching it. I'd tried drinking once before with Curly after mom and dad died, Darry had grounded me then warned me that if I ever did it again he'd have my hide. I don't think he was serious though - but I didn't think he'd hit me that one other time, when I came home late either; and so as Darry always says - I don't use my head. I lift the bottle to my lips, taking in a large mouthful and choking on the bitter strong taste, making my eyes water. I brushed my left hand across my watering eyes and place the alcohol on the kitchen bench, deciding I should start a wash load. I headed to mine and Soda's room, and grab the large pile of clothing that was heaped next to the bed, then got down on my hands and knees to hunt out any other missing items that may have ended up under our bed.

Once all the clothing had been located, I sorted them into piles; clean, sort of clean and dirty. I placed the sort of clean and dirty piles into the machine, before heading to Darry's bedroom. Darry always likes to keep his room clean, his clothes are always put neatly away into his drawers and his dirty washing in the hamper. I carried the hamper to the laundry, pulling all the dirty washing from it, and place it in the machine with Soda's and mine. Then poured a measured amount of washing powder in, and switched it on.

After the machine grumbled to life I headed the short distance to my room, and grabbed the carton of smokes I'd left sitting on my bedside table, then make my way down the hall re-entering the kitchen for the beer I'd left waiting for me on the countertop, then headed for the front door; figuring the rest of the house can wait, and with that I started the porch steps with the flyscreen door slamming after me.

I started down the street my feet automatically heading in the almost too familiar direction of the DX, the piercing blue of the almost cloudless sky hovering above with its hot suns rays beaming directly at me. I stopped in my own tracks feeling the sudden - but not unfamiliar - crave for a cigarette. I glanced around my surroundings for a second before deciding to settle on the curve, and seated myself down on the concrete with my feet resting in the side of the gutter. I pulled the slightly crinkled cigarette pack from my pocket along with my lighter, lighting up a stick and inhaling deeply as I did so; my arm was draped loosely over my knee, with my cigarette placed between my index and middle finger, flicking the ashes lightly from the end. I brought my other hand up that still contained my now warm beer, and chugged the remaining from the bottom of the bottle. As I looked out across the road, I ran my index finger around the bottom of the bottle, then absent mindlessly picked at corner of the labelling.

_Groan_... I knew the sun was gonna cook me if I sat here any longer. I placed the empty beer bottle beside me on the curb and stood up, letting the warm sun soak right through me as I stood on the sidewalk. I pulled my cigarette back to my lips taking another deep, long breath, letting the smoke fill my lungs - feeling satisfied. I continue my walk to the DX Station.

As I was walking and smokin' my cigarette, I glanced up at the bright golden sun. _Darry surely would smack me upside the head if he saw me_, I thought. I let my mind drift back to when we were kids, on those hot summers days back when our parents had been alive and things were simple - before our lives had become shattered and broken - we'd run wild as kids do, around our backyard shooting one another with water guns till we were drenched to the bone, our mother laughing freely as she watched, and the charcoaled smell coming from the barbecue as our dad flipped the burgers. I wished I could somehow bring those days back - retuned those unforgettable memories, but in reality I knew that wasn't going to happen and never would.

The same time my mind was circling back to our childhood, I was nearing the DX. As I stepped off the curb to cross the street, there was a loud screeching of tyres and someone blasting their horn, this woke me right out of my thinking. I looked up to see a red Firebird missing me by a near three feet.

"Get off the road, you stupid kid!" The angry driver yelled.

I noticed Soda making his way toward me in a somewhat fast jog; guess he heard the commotion then.

"Ponyboy Michael," he scolded, as he reached me, then took a firm grasp on my arm, pulling me from the road. "You should know better then to just walk out in front of cars like that, you could have been seriously hurt, or something."

"Sorry, Soda... I didn't see it." I mumbled, pouting. Who knew that car was going to come out of nowhere the same time that I crossed. I could blame it on the beer, knocking my sense of judgement; but with my record, my judgement was normally lack thereof.

"Well... next time look properly before you cross, understand?"

I nodded. He slung his arm around my shoulder, and we walked over towards the garage where Steve was working on a car, he was underneath the hood messing with some parts.

"How's that alternator comin' along?" Soda asked, as we approached Steve.

Steve looked up from under the bonnet. "Yeah, almost done. Just need to attach a couple more electrical wires, and she'll be as good as new," he said, grabbing an old rag, wiping the grease from his hands.

"Hey Kid, how's it -" he stopped mid sentience, and scrunched his brows together, taking a step towards me. "Have you been drinking kid?" Steve asked, in his usual annoyed tone, but now held slight curiosity.

Shit, now I'm in for it. I forgot about how the beer smell lingers on your breath afterwards. Like I said I've only tried it once, mind you I'm only 14, so not even the legal age to be drinking yet. Yep... I'm in a lot of trouble.

"Umm..." was all I managed to say.

Soda turned to glare at me, with raised eyebrows. "Pony?" He questioned firmly, making direct eye contact, as he waited for my response.

I broke the eye contact, with a sudden interest in my worn in sneakers. I suppose that was a good enough answer for Soda, cause he grabbed my upper arm in a rather firm grip, that I'm sure will leave a bruise, then told Steve to watch the pumps. He marched me into the back office, then pulled out a hard plastic chair from the table, for me to sit on. He crouched down in front of me so he was at my eye level.

"Ponyboy," his tone caught my attention, but I didn't meet his eye contact. "you've got some explaining to do. Do you wanna tell me what you were thinkin'?"

He paused for an answer, but I kept my mouth shut. But it didn't matter, cause his voice carried on not even a second later.

"And another thing, who gave it to you...who in their right mind would do something that stupid?"

I dropped my gaze, staring down at the hole in the toe of my sneaker; as he paused, thinking, before he let out a deep sigh, "Ponyboy, please don't tell me it was Two-Bit's?"

My head shot up at that. "Soda, please... Two-Bit did nothing wrong. He doesn't even know." I pleaded.

"Either way, Pony, I'll be having a word with Two-Bit. But right now I'm focusing on you."

I bit down on my lower lip, dropping my eyes again. Soda placed his right hand gently, but yet firmly under my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

"You know better then this, Pony, what with the state breathing down our necks and all. You know Darry and I both gave you strict rules not to touch that stuff. I'm very disappointed in you." Keeping eye contact was hard, almost impossible, as Soda scolded me. "You can to stay here until my shifts over, understood?"

"No, Soda!" He can't do that. "Please, you can't make me stay here all day." I whined. Sure... I've been warned not to drink, but it wasn't even a full bottle of beer. I'm not spending the rest of my day waiting around until his finished his shift, that's hours away.

"Ponyboy, your in no position to argue. Stay here!" He said, firmly, and stood up from his crouched position. I followed, standing up from the chair - there was no way I was waiting around here.

"I'm not staying... and there's nothing you can do about it." I sassed, even though I was sure there was probably plenty he could do about it. I could tell he was getting frustrated with me, and I'm sure I was being a brat... but I didn't care - the heat was making me temperamental.

"Ponyboy, that's enough! You either sit down now, or I'll make you." He said, with authority to his voice. I wasn't sure how much further I could push him, but I was willing to try my luck.

I looked him in the eye, and said, "No!"

He grabbed me by my arm and without any hesitation gave me a hard smack to my backside, that made me gasp and wince.

Then he raised his hand again, giving my butt another smack, harder this time. Then he followed with another three, each one making me cry out.

He placed his hand under my chin again, looking at me firmly. "Now, sit down!"

I was shocked, how could he do this to me.

...

Bella Lilac


	2. Innocent or Not?

I sat down immediately; feeling the sting in my backside. Even through the extra layer, with my jeans - it'd hurt. I glanced up at Soda, with tear filled eyes, and bit down on my bottom lip.

"You stay here, Pony. I'll be back in a bit." Soda gave me one last look, and turned to leave.

"S-soda?" I asked quietly, sniffing.

He stopped, turning back to me. "Yeah, Pony?" he asked.

I swallowed hard, as some tears made their way down my cheek. "C-can... can we not tell Darry about this, please Soda?"

Soda walked back to where I was seated, and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Pony, you know as well as I do Darry'll find out whether _we_ tell him or not, if he doesn't hear it from us, he'll hear it from somebody else... you know that. But listen... you do know what you did was wrong, right?"

As I nodded yes, a few more tears fell.

"Ok, well... I'll tell him that I've had a talk to you. But, I know he won't be very happy about it, so I can't make any promises, ok? And... you _are_ to stay here until I'm finished," his eyes made direct contact with mine. "Do I make myself clear?"

I nodded again, knowing he'd made himself very clear. I knew in future I'd have to try and listen to Soda more.

"Good, and next time you decide to start talking back to me like that, I won't hesitate in tanning your backside again. Is that understood?"

I bit down on my lower lip again, nodding. "Y-yes, Soda," I said quietly.

He pulled me up from my seat and wrapped his arms around me. "Good, I've gotta get back to work, but I'll come and get you when it's time for lunch."

I nodded against his chest, content with his comforting embrace. He slowly rubbed soft circles on my back as he held me for a minute longer, before placing a kiss to the top of my head.

"You ok, now?" he asked, unwrapping his arms from around me.

I nodded, "Yeah."

"Alright. I'll be back soon, ok?" I nodded again, and watched him leave the room.

I took a seat in the chair again, sighing. I only had half an hour to waste, before lunch. I found some paper in the office desk drawer and a grey led pencil and occupied myself with drawing a picture of a bridge with a little stream running through it, with mountains on both sides.

The time only seemed like minutes, before Soda re-entered the room again, letting me know it was lunch. I sat the grey led down next to my drawing, to come back to later on, and followed Soda out the door.

Soda headed for the garage, to find Steve. I continued past the pumps over towards where a large stack of tyres sat leaning up against an old metal fencing, that surrounded the edging of the DX station. I climbed up, almost half way, then sat down on the edge of the black rubbery ring. I pulled my pack of smokes from my pocket, then found my lighter. I held my smoke to my lips inhaling a deep breath, and watched as Soda and Steve strolled casually over towards me. Soda climbed up, taking a seat next to me, and handed me a wrapped sandwich and Pepsi; that I guessed were from the DX fridge.

"Thanks, Soda." I placed the wrapped sandwich on the tyre beside me, and flicked the tab on the Pepsi, taking a long drink.

"That's k," he said, giving me a light smile, then unwrapped his own lunch.

Steve remained standing on the concrete, facing us. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his own pack of smokes, lighting one up. I could tell by the looks he was giving me, that Soda must have filled him in on what happened earlier, but he didn't say anything, and that I was thankful for. The next few minutes we ate in silence, but that silence didn't last long.

"Hiya Greasers... how's it hangin'!?" Two-Bit said with a cocky grin, coming over towards us.

However, the grin was _quickly_ wiped from his face as Soda started in on him. "Two-Bit, I should kick your ass!" He was taken back by - I'm sure mostly surprise, maybe shock - he steadily took a step backwards. But a split second, a small smirk appeared, overtaking the moments hesitation.

His response, comical. "I'm innocent, I swear." He then placed his hands up in a surrender pose, before he started rambling on, and on.

"It was her... I knew it... it was that good lookin' blond broad," he paused, thinking, "I think it was... no, I'm sure it was, Amy... no, Amanda..." thinking again, "anyhow, did she come by here, cause I swear I didn't do anything..."

Steve snickered, clearly amused.

Soda cut in, before Two-Bit embarrassed himself further. "Two-Bit, Shut up!" Soda sounded on the edge of his patience, Two-Bit pretended to zip his mouth shut. "You left _your_ damn beer lying around our house, Ponyboy here found them..."

I interrupted him, I couldn't let him go off at Two-Bit like this, he wasn't even there to begin with, "Soda please don't, it wasn't ev-"

He didn't listen, instead he shushed me.

I hung my head, feeling terrible. But Soda didn't let up. "He drank it Two-Bit, we could smell the beer on his breath. Don't be surprised when Darry catches wind of this, and tries to knock your damn block off. Cause I can tell you now his gonna be pissed."

"Yeah, but who's to say it was my beer? Kid could have got it from anywhere. Where'd ya' get the beer, Ponyboy?" I kept my head hung, and bit my lip. I couldn't answer, or look at him. I was to blame, that he was copping this.

Two-Bit sighed heavily, putting his head in his hands. "Seriously kid," now it was his turn to scold me, but I deserved it. "what you tryin' to do? Get me killed or somethin'? Cause I sure ain't' itchin' to have to deal with your big brother 'bout this."

"I-i'm sorry, Two-Bit." I swallowed, hard.

He sighed again, but lighter. "Ok... it's ok, we'll figure this out." He paused, rubbing a heavy hand across his forehead.

"Maybe, Darry won't find out..." But after a moments pause, he added, "who am I kidding... Darry always finds out. You know, I have a good mind to tan you myself, kid." That caught my attention. I lifted my head, getting a good look at him; his normally cocky self, now etched with worry, and disappointment.

"If you weren't Darry and Soda's kid brother, I would."

Soda placed a reassuring hand to my knee. "Don't count on it," he told Two-Bit; though his tone was light, I still caught the warning behind it. "either way, we need to get back to work. Ponyboy," I turned to look at him, "hang around. I finish at three, till then _stay_ outta trouble." I nodded, and rolled my eyes as I turned away from him.

"Hey, I saw that," he warned, giving my knee a good slap. Then made his way down from the tyre stack, and heading with Steve to the garage.

It was still yet another two hours before Soda finished, and that I was _finally_ released from my confinement - though to be honest I wasn't much looking forward to going home either, and facing Darry.

I bummed around with Two-Bit while I waited, with him now cracking jokes - I think I was more humoured watching him laugh at his own joke, then the actual joke itself.

"Hey! Hey Pony, listen to this one. Why did the cookie cry?"

"I don't know, Two-Bit?" I said, shaking my head.

"Because his mother was a wafer so long," he laughed, "get it... a wafer." At the sight of him laughing so hard, I couldn't hold back. I had to laugh in spite of myself.

After the guys shift ended, we turned to leave.

The walk home was silent... maybe I should correct myself - I was silent, the guys around me not so much. Soda and Steve were caught up in some conversation, that I hadn't caught, and Two-Bit hadn't let up on his lame attempt at jokes - earning himself the occasional scowl, from both my brother and Steve. My mind had wondered away from their conversation long ago, as my brain conjured up every possible thing Darry may say... or worse, do... admittedly I was a little scared.

I let out a light sigh, as we met the old front gate to our property. I lagged back, as we headed up the small path to our front steps, with both Soda and Steve messing around, taking playful punches at one another. Soda ducked a punch, then had Steve in a tight headlock. I followed them up the porch steps, and into the house, with Two-Bit trailing close behind. It suddenly dawned on me that I still needed to get the rest of the place cleaned before Darry came home. I hadn't done much before leaving, and I'm sure the washing machine had long since finished.

"Shit," I said without realising, and felt a solid slap to my head.

"_Oww_!"

"Watch your language, Pony," Soda warned, as I rubbed the sore spot. Then I noticed him glancing at the dishes piled in the sink left from breakfast, before he turned to me with a raised eyebrow, questioning.

"I know, Soda," I said, with a hint of attitude.

He raised both eyebrows, with a warning. I knew he'd caught the attitude, but the way he looked at me wasn't necessary. I knew I had to clean up, and get it done. Cause as it stood; I was already in trouble, and didn't need to add anymore to the list.

"Well then, go and do it. Before Darry gets home." His voice was calm, collected, but held authority.

I headed for the laundry, and pulled the washing out of the machine to hang up to dry, then went to start on the dishes.

The television in the living room was now turned up to it's maximum capacity, and I could hear the guys in the lounge, wrestling, and knocking into things.

I grabbed a dish from the hot soapy water, scrubbed it, rinsed it, then onto the next one, "One dish, two dish, three dish, four... wash, wash, scrub, scrub, then there's more," I sang to myself quietly, while washing a glass cup.

What I didn't realise, was that Two-Bit had walked into the kitchen, stood right behind me, wearing a mischievous grin. Without warning, he grabbed me around the waist, lifting me up, then roughly dropped me back down; making the sudsy glass slip from my fingers, and shatter across the kitchen floor. Soda and Steve raced in, upon hearing the smash.

"TWO-BIT!" I yelled, angrily.

...

Bella Lilac


	3. Just a small cut, right?

"What happened in here!?" Soda questioned, looking at the broken bits of glass, scattered around the kitchen floor.

"Two-Bit, is _what_ happened!" I narrowed my eyes at Two-Bit, as I pulled the bin over, then crouched down to start picking up the glass, putting them in the bin.

"Ponyboy, leave them. I'll go get the dustpan and broom." Soda said, as he went to the laundry room.

Stupidly ignoring him, I continued. As I picked up one of the smaller shards, more jagged on the edges, it slipped, slicing a deep cut into my finger. I winced, "_Shit_." I dropped the piece on the ground and noticed blood seeping out of the cut. I clutched my other hand tightly around my finger to try and stop the blood, but also to try and take the pain away.

Steve was leaning up against the door frame - watching, while Two-Bit was trying to help me pick the glass up. Two-Bit gave me a concerned glance after hearing my curse.

"You ok, kid?"

I nodded, and answered untruthfully, "Y-yeah." Sure it hurt, but I didn't want to make a big deal about it, and look like a baby - not in front of the guys. It was just a small cut, after all.

Soda returned, dustpan and broom in hand. "Don't touch that guys, you'll cut yourself."

"To late," I barely whispered, clutching my finger tightly.

Soda turned, looking down at me, seeing the warm metallic blood seeping between my fingers. He immediately turned to Steve, handing over the dustpan and broom.

"Steve, can you take over?"

He then crouched down in front of me, taking my hands in his, but I wouldn't loosen the grip on my finger, "Baby, I need to see it."

"It's fine, Soda." I said, trying to sound fine. I moved my eyes quickly from both, Steve and Two-Bit, noticing they were both watching the scene.

"Honey, show me." I sighed, and moved my hand slightly away so he could see, but not completely. He winced, inspecting the damage, then helped me up. He guided me into the lounge, over to the couch.

"I'll be right back," he said, as I took a seat.

Moments later, Soda returned with a small plastic bowl filled with water and the first aid kit. He took a seat beside me, on the couch.

"I need to soak it, to make sure there's no glass left in the cut," he said, holding his palm out to me. I reluctantly placed my hand in his, letting him take control, he submerged my hand into the water. I hissed slightly at the sting, and watched as the water turned an instant pink.

He removed my hand from the water, lightly brushing his finger along the cut.

"_Ow_!" I gasped.

"It's ok, baby. I can't feel any glass." He pulled out a clean cotton cloth from the first aid, and held it to my finger, with pressure. After five minutes he removed the cloth, but the bleeding hadn't stopped.

Soda sighed, lightly. "It might need stitches, Pony?"

"No, Soda... I don't want stitches." I whined, pouting.

"Yeah, I know kiddo. But if we don't close the cut, it'll get infected."

"B-but..."

"No, buts!"

Now it was my turn to sigh. I leaned back into the couch, feeling defeated, as Soda called out to his best friend.

"Yeah, Soda?" Steve wandered in from the kitchen, that him and Two-Bit were supposably cleaning. I couldn't say what they succeeded in more... cleaning the glass, or... the non stop talking; their voices hadn't stopped since we came in here.

Two-Bit leaned against the door frame, that divided the kitchen and lounge. "How's the kid?"

Ignoring his question, Soda turned to Steve, "Steve, can you stitch the cut? It's too deep to stop the bleeding."

"Sure," Steve hunted through the first add kit, pulling out a needle and thread, and a bottle of alcohol. He crouched down on the floor in front of me, with his hand held out, waiting, getting impatient.

"Do you want me to fix it, or not, kid?" I wanted to tell him, no... no, I don't. But I didn't want to upset Soda either. So instead, I just sat there, not moving.

Soda seeing I was unwilling to cooperate, firmly took a hold of my wrist, guiding my hand in front of Steve. I side glanced Soda. He noticed my glance, turning to me, and gave me a weak smile; I'm sure he didn't miss my lip biting, or the nervousness that was evident in my eyes.

"It's ok," he whispered, gently.

Steve then proceeded to soak a cotton swab in the alcohol, then held my finger as he carefully dabbed the bud to the cut, it burned. I winced, trying to pull out of their hold, but Soda was stronger and managed to keep a hold of me, keeping me still.

"Calm down, Pony... just relax." Soda pulled me closer to him and rubbed circles on my back, making me relax some. I leaned my head on his shoulder and let Steve put the stitches in.

I stayed on the couch - laying down, after my finger had been stitched, a white bandage covering Steve's handiwork. I had asked Soda to put the television on for me, before he left for the kitchen, to start dinner. The TV screen flickered in front of me, some cooking show playing; but even that was not enough to capture my attention, my mind was elsewhere.

The guys had left a good ten minutes ago, Two-Bit saying he had to get home for dinner, and I don't know what Steve's excuse was - but I knew they didn't want to be here for when Darry got home. I don't blame them though. I _would have _left too if it were me.

I could hear Soda banging around in the kitchen; I wonder what creation he'd come up with tonight. With my creative brother, anything's possible - maybe green pasta, or chocolate soup...

Then the sound I'd been dreading all afternoon came; Darry's truck pulling up.

The sound of his heavy boots coming up the porch steps. The fly-screen opened, then shut, hitting the door frame with a bang - making me jump - praying Darry didn't notice.

He pulled off his work belt, hanging it on the entry hook and kicked off his boots, as he turned, he notice me, "Hey kiddo, how was your day? Did you get up to much?"

I swallowed, hard. "Hey Darry, not much," I greeted, not making eye contact.

"What did..." he stopped short, "What happened to your hand?"

"Umm, I cut it." I replied, hesitantly, chewing my lower lip slowly.

"Cut it? With what?"

"Glass..." I mumbled, looking down.

He glanced at me, eyebrows raised. "And, do you want to tell me how that happened?"

"Umm... a cup broke." I answered, slowly, flicking my eyes to their corners, giving him a brief glance. I could see that his patience were growing thin, but trying to remain calm.

"Ok, and how did it break?"

"It... umm, smashed."

He sighed heavily. I had a feeling he felt like he was pulling teeth, I was giving him answers - briefly, sure he wanted to know the full story; but I'd be in more trouble if he found out I hadn't cleaned before going out, like he'd asked.

"Ponyboy, you better start telling..." Darry started, but was cut short by Soda singing out to him. He hesitated a moment, but knew he wasn't getting much of an answer from me anyway, and went into the kitchen to find Soda. I could hear him and Soda talking, and prayed Soda would keep his mouth shut.

"Ponyboy Michael Curtis, get here now!" Darry growled, coming from the kitchen - as my stomach leapt into my throat at the sound of his voice.

I swallowed, hard... thanks Soda.

Darry marched back through the lounge, over to the couch, and roughly pulled me by my arm to my feet.

"Bend over the couch arm, Ponyboy." He ordered firmly, pointing at the arm he wanted me to go to.

He couldn't be serious, could he?

...

Bella Lilac


	4. Punishment and Make Ups

"B-but, Darry..." I could already feel the tears welling up.

"Now, Ponyboy!" He spoke with authority; he knows I _usually_ comply when he uses that tone.

But when I _still_ didn't move, he landed a sharp smack to my behind propelling me forward - to get me moving.

"_Ow_!" I cried out, and walked slowly to the couches arm, stopping in front of it, as tears slowly began to fall. Darry held my upper arm and gently guided me over the leather arm, then rested one of his hands on my lower back, but brought the other hand down hard on my backside. I gasped at the sudden sting.

He bought his hand down again just as hard as the first. Then he landed three more, if not harder than the first two, each one making me cry out.

"You wanna tell me what you were thinkin', kid," I flinched at his sharp tone, as he continued smacking me. "because for starters your underage, and have you forgotten that both Soda and I specifically told you to never touch beer, or has that just somehow slipped your mind," he wasn't yelling, but his tone was firm.

"And, have you also forgotten that the state likes to make their 'surprise' visits unannounced whenever they feel the need to do so, or has that slipped your mind too."

"I-I'm s-sorry," I cried, as he still held a firm hand to my lower back.

"Ponyboy you really need to wake up and start thinking, and pull your head from the clouds, cause one stupid stunt like that could cost you your future," he moved from my bottom, landing half a dozen well placed swats to my sensitive sit-spots, before stopping.

"Oh, and also your grounded Pony, for a week, no arguments."

"A w-whole week, but that's not fair." I stuttered, through sobs.

A particularly hard smack landed on my backside, at my protest. "Ponyboy, I said no arguments, or it'll be two weeks, understand?" I nodded.

I stayed over the couch sobbing into the rough leather, before burying my face into a cushion. The burning in my backside was intense.

"Hush," Darry spoke softly, as he rubbed my back. "It's ok now, Ponyboy."

Darry helped me up, once my sobs had eventually died down. He told me to take a seat, saying he wanted to take a look at my finger. I winced as I sat, feeling the immense sting in my bottom.

"B-but... I-it's fine, Darry," I whined, squirming unsuccessfully trying to find a comfy spot.

Darry took a seat beside me. "Sit still," he scolded, gently, "and that maybe so, but I still want to take a look."

I sighed, sniffing, and gingerly held my hand out. He held it in his large, calloused hand, unwrapping the bandage from my finger. Then inspected the cut.

"It doesn't look too bad," he said, as he gently moved my finger - side to side, examining the stitches. "But you know, none of this would have happened, if you'd just done as you were told."

So... Soda had told him about the unfinished chores; is there anything he didn't leave out.

I hung my head, not saying anything. I don't know if he expected a reply, or not... but if he did, he didn't get it.

He glanced at me for a moment, before sighing lightly, then stood up.

"Wait here, Pony." He disappeared into the bathroom only to return seconds later with the hydrogen peroxide, he smeared some on the cut and re-bandaged it.

Soda called from the kitchen, that dinner was indeed ready. I stood up from my position on the couch, to make my way for the kitchen. As I passed through the doorway, the smell of chocolate hit me. I sucked in a deep breath, hmm-hm... definitely chocolate.

I looked across the kitchen, and there on the stove sat a plate piled high with chocolate pancakes - how I hadn't smelt them before, I don't know. Maybe the stress of worrying blocked my senses.

I wondered mindlessly if the pancakes were somehow... like, a peace offering - from Soda, for telling Darry.

I strolled casually over to the stove, so to not attract any attention - I had to have a taste, just a small bite, they smelled too good not to. I reached my hand out, only having just touched the top pancake, when I was caught. Soda smacked my hand, not hard, but hard enough to get my attention, and gave me a small grin.

"Go, sit down... and wait till I put them on the table first."

I gave him my best puppy eyes, a look that he normally_ can't_ resist, and watched as his grin widened into a smile, that was a good sign. But I was shocked, when he still didn't give in.

"Go, on... go sit down," he chuckled, nudging me gently towards the chair. I stuck my lower lip out at him, but sat down anyway. By the time he placed the pancakes on the centre of the table, I was practically drooling. Finally, both my brothers were seated. I helped myself to the two off the top, drowned them in maple syrup, then virtually inhaled them.

"Don't eat so fast, your gonna make yourself sick." Darry warned, before talking another bite.

I immediately helped myself to a third, drowning it in syrup again. These sure were good pancakes; but everything made with chocolate taste good. I bet even brussel sprouts could taste good, if they were covered with chocolate, but... I'll keep that thought to myself...

After polishing the third one off, my plate was left with the remaining maple syrup. I ran my finger through it, scooping up the mess, and licked it from my finger; earning myself a not-to-pleased glare from Darry, he should be thankful I wasn't licking it from the plate.

Once I was satisfied I'd indulged every last drop of syrup, I placed my plate into the sink. Then headed for the front door, for a smoke.

"Where you goin' kiddo? Don't wander to far, your grounded remember?" Darry reminded me, like I had already forgotten.

I scowled. "Just to the porch... don't worry, I _ain't_ gonna run away anywhere." I added a little too sarcastically.

"No need for the lip, kiddo. Don't be too long," he warned. I rolled my eyes, as I headed outside.

I took a seat on the step, and lit a smoke. There was a nice cool breeze blowing now that the sun had set. I puffed on my cigarette looking out into the dark night, the wind was blowing through the trees letting them make a whooshing sound, I could hear an owl hooting very faintly in the distance, and most of the houses still had their lights on; their occupants getting ready to turn in for the night.

I heard the screen door open and close softly behind me; I knew it was Soda without even having turn around. He took a seat beside me and hesitantly placed his arm around my shoulders.

"Whatcha doin' out here, kiddo?" He whispered, softly.

"Nothin'." I mumbled, but didn't look at him. I kept my stare out into the darkened sky. I was still slightly angry at him for telling Darry about today; even with his attempt at make up, with the pancakes. It was like he could read my mind, cause he looked at me and spoke up again.

"You know I had to tell him, baby... it was either one of us says something, or... he'd find out through someone else. I thought it'd be better him hearing it from us."

"Well it wasn't Soda, cause now I'm grounded for a whole week, plus he tanned me." I grumbled and threw my cigarette butt over the porch railing.

"Your lucky _that's all_ you got, kiddo. Cause he was goin' to go in there and give you his belt. I had a talk to him, and he decided not to this time... but, if it happens again you'll get it no questions asked."

I stared at my lap, and felt my vision blur - _why was life so unfair... why is it that, I'm the one that's always getting the blame... or, in trouble_. I sniffed back some unwanted tears, silently hoping Soda would leave, so I could be left alone. I wanted to dwell in my own misery - have my own pity party... but that didn't look like it was about to happen.

Soda rubbed my back, slowly, as he watched me.

"It's ok," he sighed, softly.

I pouted, as more tears slid their way down my cheeks.

"Do you wanna call it a night?"

I shook my head, vaguely; unsure if he noticed.

He chuckled, lightly, "Your pouting like a puppy."

I looked up at him, with my big sad eyes. "N-no, I'm not."

He gave me a warm smile, and pulled me to his chest, rubbing his hands up and down my bare arms. It was getting pretty cold out now, and my muscle top wasn't exactly keeping me warm. I leaned further into Soda's chest, content with the heat from him, and gave a tired yawn, feeling sudden sleepiness take over.

Minutes passed, couldn't say how many - my mind was in the state of sleep, listening to Soda's soft rising and falling of his chest, but the sound of his voice vibrating in his chest, shocked me awake.

"C'mon... it's getting late."

I sighed sleepily, as he gently guided me away from his chest. As he stood up, he kept a hold on me, then pulled me up. I let him steer me into the house, and down to our bedroom.

"Here, put these on." Soda said, handing me my pyjama bottoms. I undressed and shrugged the baggy red checkered pants on, then headed to the bathroom, once I was done I climbed into bed. Soda following not even minutes after, flicking off the bedside lamp.

"Soda?" I whispered, into the dark.

I felt him roll over, onto his side, facing my back.

"Yeah?"

The room fell silent, as Soda waited for me to talk. Soda's always been an easy listener, he never pushes me to talk, but he knows I'll always come to him if I need to.

"S-soda... umm, I'm sorry..."

"What for, Pony?" His tone light, sounding unsure. He rubbed his hand on my back, as I answered.

"For, umm... talking back, and ah... d-drinking." I responded, my voice trailing off at the end so low, I wasn't even sure if he had heard me.

But, I heard him lightly sigh from behind me. "Hmm... well, I do appreciate the apology... but Ponyboy, these _aren't_ habits you need to be picking up, ok?... Though, I'm sure Darry and I made that quite clear today," he sighed deeply. "Just don't let this behaviour continue... or, you know what you'll get," he said, tapping me lightly on the backside for emphasise.

I swallowed hard and nodded.

He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer into his chest and rested his chin at the top of my head. I sighed deeply, feeling the fatigue from before creep up again, and closed my eyes.

"Soda?" I whispered.

"Yeah?" he answered, sleepily.

"Love you, Soda."

"Love you too, kiddo."

Then all I heard was soft even breathing and knew he was asleep. I snuggled closer to him and let his soft breaths lull me to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Bella Lilac


	5. Ouch

"Wake up, kiddo!" Soda said, shaking me. Then I felt the bed sink a little, as he took a seat on the edge. I pretended to be sleeping still, I didn't want to get up yet.

"Ponyboy, wake up!" Soda said, shaking me a little harder.

"Op akin me oda, lemme eep." I muffled into my pillow.

Soda laughed, softly, "What was that, Pon?"

I lifted my head to look at him. "I _said_... stop shaking me soda, let me sleep." Before dropping it back down on the pillow again.

He chuckled again. "Well... that's not going to happen kiddo. Cause Darry wants you up, so he can talk to you before he goes to work."

Soda stood up from the bed, and walked around to the other side, then bent down so he was looking underneath the bed base. I could hear him ruffling and shifting things... but, obversely not finding what he was after, he tried the drawers next, pulling one drawer open after another. A few items of clothing were flung over his shoulder... landing across the room, others just falling in a messy pile to the ground.

I watched him with confusion, shaking my head slowly - as he managed to destroy the room in less time, than it takes for me to get out of bed.

"Why does he have to talk? Can't he let me sleep." I complained.

"I don't know, Pony... just said he wanted you up, so he could talk to you. Didn't say why," he said, as he tossed a couple of t-shirts from the drawer.

No wonder we can't keep the room clean; between Soda and me I don't know who the messiest one is.

"What you lookin' for Soda?"

"Can't find my DX shirt," he said, with a frustrated sigh.

"Well... I did the laundry yesterday, maybe it went in there."

He turned to me, with an expression I couldn't read; but as what I'd just told him, processed through his brain, he took off for the door, singing out, "You'd better get up, Pony!" Then he disappeared around the corner.

Slowly I pulled myself out of my nice warm bed, and slid on a pair of jeans and t-shirt, and made my way to the bathroom.

As I walked into the kitchen, Soda was already seated at the table - with his DX shirt, as he ate eggs with jelly, and a side of chocolate cake... how he can stomach that mix, I don't know. Darry was over by the sink, making himself a pot of black coffee.

"Hey Darry, you wanted to see me?" I asked, taking a slice of chocolate cake, and took a large bite out of it. The icing wasn't too sweet, so I knew Darry made it. He must of whipped it up before going to bed last night. Soda _always_ puts way too much sugar in the icing mix, putting anyone that ate it on a sudden sugar high. Soda loved anything that was overly sweet.

"Yeah..." Darry said, as he turned. He leaned up against the bench top, and took a sip of his coffee. "Pony, no going out today. You can try'en straighten the house up, maybe read a book... I'll be back around five thirty," Darry turned to Soda, "and Soda finishes at one?"

Soda who'd just shoved the last quarter of his cake into his mouth, answered, "Yeah, one o'clock." He confirmed with his mouth full, spraying bits of cake out along with his answer.

"_Yuck_, Soda!" I said, with a slight laugh, scrunching my nose up.

"Soda, next time _finish_ your mouthful before answering." Darry scolded, then turned, placing his empty mug in the sink.

Then turned back, with an after thought, "Oh, and if Two-Bit happens to drop by, tell him I want a word with him." He said, looking between Soda and I. Then he walked past us, through to the living room.

"Hurry up, Soda... we gotta get going."

Soda stood up from the table, placing his plate in the sink. Then headed into the lounge, he grabbed his DX cap from the coffee table, putting it on.

Darry pulled the keys from the entry hook, then turned to me. "I'll see you tonight, Pony. Stay outta trouble, got it?"

"I got it, Darry."

"Good," he said, then headed out the door.

I turned back to Soda, who was now racing around the lounge with only one shoe on. He was turning over pillows, looking behind the television...

"Help me find my other shoe, Pony."

I looked in a few various spots, only to turn up with nothing. I figured I might as well try our bedroom, and low and behold, it was there, next to the wardrobe... don't ask me how it got there - but with how Soda throws his things around, _anythings_ possible.

"Soda... I found it!" I yelled, running out to the lounge.

"Thanks, kiddo." he smiled.

Then threw it on and rushed out the door, yelling, "See ya later, Pony."

I glanced up at round white clock on the kitchen wall, with it reading twenty-five to eight, and wandered back to my room, not wanting to be up that early on school holidays. I climbed back into bed, finding it hard to get back to sleep, but I eventually did.

When I woke up next, the sun was shining through our blinds. I rolled over to look at the digital bedside clock, the time was now 9:56, that's more like it.

I wandered back into the lounge, like I had done earlier this morning. But the house now felt too quiet. I switched the television on, searching the channels and settled for Mister ED. It amazed me how they could get a horse to talk.

I watched as Wilbur walked into the barn, and sat down on the couch to read his paper. Mister ED trotted over, reading the paper over Wilbur's shoulder.

_Now a horse that can read, that's smart._

He was smarter than a lot of people I knew, thinking of Curly Shepard and the other boys that got caught up in rough rival gangs, that hadn't found themselves a proper education. You'd never catch those boys with a book, then try'na read a book. Then my thoughts set on Soda, and him dropping out. Soda wasn't book smart like me, but he was smart in other ways, he used his head for one, unlike me.

My thinking came to a halt, as the add break came on. I went into the kitchen to hunt for something to eat, and pulled the box of Cheerios from the food cupboard, and poured myself a bowl. I sat back down on the couch with my cereal to watch the rest of the program.

My thoughts wandered back to before the add break. Darry was smart, he was probably the most smartest person I knew, apart from my teachers, but they had to be smart. Darry didn't. He was both book smart and head smart, and I admired him for that, but also couldn't stand it at times, with his constant nagging at me.

After the show had finished, I turned the television set off.

I headed to the kitchen, placing my bowl in the sink - that still had this mornings dirty dishes. I filled the sink with hot, soapy water to do up the dishes.

After that, I headed for the backdoor, to check on the washing. It was bone dry, almost crisp. I fetched the washing basket from the laundry, then came back out to pull the clothes off the line. The sun was already giving off full radiation, heating up the cloudless blue sky, ready for another scorcher of a day.

I placed the washing on my bed, sorting out who's was what. It took me a good twenty-five minutes to fold it, and place it in neat piles to put away in the correct drawers.

The heat from outside was heating up the inside of the house now. I grabbed a book to read and went outside to sit in the old oak tree. I climbed up into my favourite branch; it was a large thick branch that stretched out like a laid back recliner couch.

The trees thick branches were full of brightly green coloured leaves that shielded the sun off of me. I leaned back opening my book. After reaching chapter four I sat my book on my chest looking up into the branches above me swaying gently with the warm light breeze, and closed my eyes listing to the birds singing and let the breeze sweep me into a peaceful slumber.

"_AAHHHHHHHH!_" I screamed. I woke to something hitting me full force in my side. I lost my balance, falling out of the tree with a hard thud on the ground below.

"What the hell!?" I yelled.

I looked to see Two-Bit holding the garden hose, doubled over laughing his head off. Then I noticed Soda and Steve also laughing at my misfortune, leaning up against the side of the house, next to the tap that the hose was connected to.

I got up dusting myself off and ran full charge at Two-Bit, but Two-Bit was ready waiting and aimed the hose at me again hitting me in the stomach.

"_Ahhh!_" I made a u-turn and ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction, the water hit me full blast in the back - with Two-Bit chasing after me now with the hose - my clothes now almost fully saturated. I was trying to dodge the water the best I could, but with little luck. I ran full bore past the back shed where the guys have spare car parts and tools, and felt something dig right into the middle of my left heel.

My foot went from under me and I fell hard on my left knee. I tried to catch myself by putting my hands out in front of me and felt a sharp pain shoot up my right arm, causing me to cry out.

Two-Bit knelt down beside me, still holding the hose, but to the side of him so the water wasn't getting us.

"You ok, kid?" He asked, looking at me concerned. He grabbed me under the arm to help me sit up - at least now I can look to see what it was that I stood on.

I grabbed my foot and turned it up, so I could take a look at it - a thick, long rusted nail had been lodge half way into my heel. "_Shit!_" I swore.

...

Bella Lilac

A/N - I'd just like to thank everyone for their continued support on this story, and for all the lovely reviews... I appreciate them. Bella.


	6. Screaming Bloody Murder

"What's wrong?" Two-Bit asked.

"I stood on a damn rusty nail, _that's_ what's wrong!"

"SODA!" I screamed.

Soda came running around the corner with Steve right behind him, he crouch down in front of me, next to Two-Bit, "What's the matter, Pony?"

"S-soda," I repeated, unable to help the whine in my voice.

"Honey, what's wrong?" He asked, sounding more concerned.

I showed him my foot, his eyes widened and he paled slightly. "Shit, ok... umm, Pony lets get you inside and out of those wet clothes."

He placed an arm around my upper back, then slid his other arm underneath my knees, lifting me up into his arms. He carried me into the lounge, placing me down on the worn in sofa, then pushed the coffee table closer towards the couch, and placed my left foot up onto the flat surface of the low table. The pain in my foot was kicking in big time, and I could feel a slight ache in my knee and wrist now. I guess the adrenaline was starting to wear off.

Soda returned, having with him the first aid kit, a couple of towels and a change of clothes. He placed one of the towels under my foot.

"Soda, we'll just be out on the porch if you need us," Steve said, as they headed for the door. I guess to give us some space.

"Ok, Steve."

Soda turned back to me, "Kiddo, take your wet top off." I did as I was told, then he handed me a towel. I dried myself off, as he passed me a dry top to put on.

As I was pulling the top over my head, Soda crouched down in front of the coffee table, and took a firm hold of my left ankle. "Baby, I _need_ you to relax for me. I have to pull the nail out."

"No! N-no, Soda!" I could feel myself start to panic, and pulled and twisted my foot, trying to get out of his tight grasp. The pain _had_ set in fully now, my foot was throbbing, and excruciating.

"Shhh..." he hushed, "Just settle ok, it'll only take a second," he said, trying to still me.

"S-soda... please don't. Just leave it... it hurts." I begged, still trying to break free. Soda looked across at me, and sighed; from his expression, he _knew_ the great deal of pain I was in, and I _knew_ he was only trying to help. He came and sat down on the cushion beside me instead - for comfort - and placed his arm around me, as I leaned into him.

"I know it hurts, kiddo... but it'll hurt _more_ if it doesn't come out."

I gave a sulky groan.

"It's alright," Soda tried to reassure me, before calling out to his best friend. Steve opened the screen door, walking in.

"What's up, Soda?"

Soda pulled me tightly into his chest, and mouthed something to Steve. I had a fair idea what it was though. I could feel my heart slowly pumping faster, as I waited. I knew what Steve was about to do, and knew I wasn't gonna like it. It was gonna hurt.

Soda grabbed my slightly sweaty, trembling hand, and I held on tight. Then I felt his hot breath on my ear, as he whispered comforting words to me.

"S-soda?" I said quietly, my voice shaking slightly.

He hugged me tighter. "Shh..." he hushed softly, "It's ok, I'm here," he whispered.

I felt Steve's hand come firmly around my left ankle - this time I knew I wasn't going anywhere, not with the both of them holding me. I increased my tight grip I already had on Soda's hand, hoping I wasn't hurting him.

"Hold still, kid!" Steve warned.

"It's ok, baby... just relax. I'm right here." Soda's soothing voice repeated softly.

Then I felt the nail being ripped out from my foot, the pain purely like no other. I cried out, as I clutched deathly tight to his hand; with my breathing raggedly fast. I buried myself further into Soda's chest, and closed my eyes, letting the tears that'd been sitting at the corner of my eyes, slide down my cheeks.

"Shh... it's alright baby," Soda hushed again, "I'm right here, Soda's here."

Steve then proceeded to pull out his pocket knife, cleaning it with alcohol. "This might hurt a bit kid, but it's for your _own_ good," he said, giving me a concerned glance.

He kept my ankle in a vice-like grip, then sliced a deep slit in the nail area of my heel with the knife making it bleed more - so he could flush out any leftover rust from the wound. I cried out in excruciating pain trying to get outta their hold. Soda tightened his grip on me, struggling to hold me still - let me tell you, it hurt like a son of a bitch.

Then he grabbed the bottle of alcohol pouring it over the cut. I was screaming bloody murder and now sobbing with tears running down my face; if Soda wasn't holding me, I would have jumped off the couch and been half way down the street by now.

My sobs were coming out in shaky gasps, and my whole body was trembling from the pain. Steve kept a firm hold on my foot, as the blood ran down my heel, turning the area on the white towel that lay under my foot a deep crimson.

"S-soda..." I sobbed, and swallowed hard, "S-soda..."

"I know, baby... I know it hurts," Soda soothed, running his fingers along my upper arm. "Shh, it's alright..."

I took a shuddering breath, and wiped my tears off on Soda's shirt.

Steve took a clean corner of the towel, and brought it towards my foot, pressing it firmly against the wound to try and control the bleeding. He had let it bleed for a good few minutes, to clean it out, but needed to stop the blood flow now.

My face remained buried in Soda's chest, but my sobs had died down. I had a constant sharp pain shooting through my right wrist, and worried I may have broken it. I sighed and closed my eyes, as I kept rested against him.

"Soda?" I whispered, quietly from his chest.

"Yeah, kiddo?" he asked, running his fingers through my hair.

"M-my - my wrist hurts, Soda... I think it's broken." I softly mumbled the last part.

"Give me a look, honey," Soda said. I opened my eyes to see him holding out his hand, waiting. I held out my right arm, and he took a hold of it, and gently felt around my wrist.

"Move your fingers," he instructed, and I did. I stretched them out, and wiggled them about.

"It ain't broken," Steve stated, as he watched me flex my hand. My eyes immediately shot to him, wondering how he was so sure. He noticed my skeptical glare. "For one, you wouldn't be able to move it like that. Here give me a look."

He roughly placed the towel around my foot, and came around the table over to the couch, then crouched down in front of me and Soda. He carefully took my hand from Soda, and felt around my wrist.

"Move your hand again," I did. Each time I moved it, a sharp pain stabbed my wrist, and ran down my arm.

"It ain't broken," Steve repeated, "It's just badly sprained."

"But, it hurts!"

"Yeah, it would," he said, looking at me, "but like I said, if it was broken you wouldn't be able to move it like that." He stood up, "I'm gonna get some ice," then left the room.

"You hurt anywhere else, kiddo?" Soda asked me, as we were waiting for Steve with the ice.

"Just my knee... but it's fine." Well... compared to everything else, it was fine.

"Show me?" I pulled up the leg of my jean, revealing a nice sized bruise to my left knee.

"Aww... kiddo," he winced, pulling me close to him again, and rubbed my back. Steve returned with an ice pack, wrapped in a tea towel, and placed it against my wrist.

"Steve, I'm gonna take Pony to the clinic."

"N-no Soda... I'm fine now."

"Pony, I need to take you to the doctors, you might need a tetanus shot. Steve can I borrow your car? You guys wait here incase we're not back before Darry."

"Yeah, here Soda." Steve tossed his keys to him. Soda gave him a thanks.

"I d-don't - I don't wanna shot Soda," I whined, as I watched Steve removed the towel from my foot, and rub some antibiotic cream on, then he wrapped a white cloth bandage around my foot. Soda knew how terrified I was of needles, ever since I was a little kid.

"I know baby, but you need to go. Trust me... you'll be in a lot more pain if you develop an infection, or something." Soda said, getting up from his spot on the couch, then lifted me into his arms again.

The drive wasn't a very eventful one. I didn't really feel up to talking 'cause my foot was hurting something awful, and I just didn't want to go to the doctors all together. I felt like... you know when you really don't want to do something, but your forced to do it - yep, well that's me right now. I'm scared of doctors always have been, it's the last place I wanna be, but you know... the funny thing is, I always seem to be here. I must be accident prone or something, 'cause I'm sure all the doctors at that clinic know me personally by now.

Soda constantly gave me a concerned glance. I tried ignoring his looks, but it was almost impossible. Instead I ended up just staring out the window, feeling sorry for myself.

We found a carpark, in front of the clinic building. Soda parked the car, then opened his door, he came around to my side opening my door, helping me out. I placed an arm across his shoulders, to lean on for support.

We approached the front desk, where an elderly woman in her late 60's was sorting through some paper work. She peered at us over the top of her glasses, that were perched on the end of her nose.

"Can I help you, boys?" she inquired rather flatly.

"Yes, ma'am. My brother here needs to see a doctor."

"Ok, well. I'll need you to fill in these paper work." She said, setting a clipboard with attached medical checks and a blank record for personal details. "Your welcome to take a seat while you fill them in." She stated, placing a black biro down on the first blank form in the clipboard.

"Thank you, ma'am." Soda said, taking the clipboard. We strolled to the long row of seats, sitting in a empty pair, and Soda made a start adding the required information in the blank spaces on the forms.

I was extremely nervous as we sat here waiting, to be called. My hands were clammy, and trembled at their own free will, and I felt sick to my stomach. Soda placed a gentle hand to my back, rubbing it softly, to try and calm me.

Finally, the nurse called my name. I felt glued to the seat, to scared to move; I wonder if they'd notice me sneaking the other way, out the door - I'd rather run, but I don't think my foot would allow that.

Soda noticed my hesitation.

"Come on, kiddo," he said, standing from his chair, then gave me a hand. I placed an arm over his shoulders again, leaning on him.

...

Bella Lilac


	7. Hyperventilating

We followed the nurse to a small, stark white painted room; that matched the rest of the clinic. The only colour being some medical posters, and a full length skeleton poster with labelling beside each bone, indicating the name of that joint - pinned up on the walls.

The nurse indicated for me to sit up on the examination table. She performed a regular check up, then told us to wait for the doctor.

Soda took a step forward, so he was standing directly in front of me - taking in my features. I'm sure my face looked as pale as I felt, and as scared - I felt like I was gonna start bawling any second, either that or throw up.

He gently placed a hand under my chin, and looked me in the eyes. "Baby, It's ok... just relax. I'm not going anywhere, but you _are_ gonna make yourself sick if you keep stressing like this."

I couldn't relax though... I was too nervous to relax.

The door opened, and a middle aged man walked in wearing a pair of dress slacks, a blue button up shirt, with a long white coat - that almost looked like a long suit jacket - over his shirt. His black hair, carefully combed to the side, with a slight balding to the front. He held a clipboard in his hand.

"Hi, I'm Dr Rogers. What can I do for you boys today?"

Soda moved to the side of me, before he spoke. He knew I wouldn't talk.

"My brother," Soda threw me a glance. "stood on a nail, it went through his left heel, a friend of ours cleaned it. He also fell on his wrist, and his knee."

The doctor wrote something down on his clipboard, then came over to me.

"Ok... lets take a look at your foot first, shall we. Just pop it up on the bed for me."

I turned side ways, and placed my foot up onto the bed, then grabbed a hold of Soda's hand. The doctor placed a plastic sheeting under my foot, then removed the bandage. He inspected the damage for a moment.

"Hmm..." his eyebrows frowned, as he studied the wound, "it appears to have been punctured with another sharp object... a knife maybe?"

He looked at Soda, for an answer.

"Umm, yeah... the wound wasn't bleeding much to flush it, my buddy used his pocket knife to help it bleed more. He also cleaned it with alcohol."

I don't know if the doctor looked more, shocked... or concerned. His eyebrows rose substantially, it was almost comical.

"Well... I gotta hand it to you, your one brave kid," he cleared his throat, "Ok, well I am still going to soak it in salt water, just to make sure it is thoroughly cleaned, and I'll also fix you up with a Tetanus shot today."

I swallowed hard, and tightened my hold on Soda's hand.

The doctor left to grab the salt water, returning minutes later. He placed the low edged rectangular container on the plastic sheet, and gently placed my foot in it. I gasped, and whined, "_Oww_..." as the wound touched the salted water, then tried pulling back.

"It will only hurt for a second, then the pain will go," the doctor reassured, placing my foot back in the water, I winced deeply. The pain and sting _certainly_ striked hard, but like he said it subsided after a few seconds.

"Ok... while that's doing it's job, let's check your wrist."

He asked me to move my fingers around, like Soda and Steve had done. Then felt around it in different spots, checking for swelling and tenderness. He wrapped it in a bandage, to reduce the swelling, and said I had to rest it, and try not to use that hand for a while. Then he checked the bruise on my knee, he said it would be tender for a few days, but will be fine.

"Ok, I'll be back in a minute." He said, exiting the room.

I glanced up at Soda, biting my lip.

"You ok, honey?" he asked, concerned. I shook my head no.

Soda sighed, and slid up onto the table next to me, sliding his arm around behind my back and leaning me into him. I placed my head on his shoulder.

"It's alright. It'll be over before you know it," his soft tone, trying to reassure me.

I lifted my head, as the door opened. The doctor walked back in, carrying a small tray in his right hand. He placed it on his office desk.

"Ok, let's see how this foots going," he said, coming back over to the bed.

He removed my foot from the water, inspecting it. "Ok, that looks good." He dried it off with a clean cloth, then rubbed some more antibacterial cream over the wound, and wrapped in it a new bandage.

"Ok, let's get this shot done, then your good to go," he walked back over to the desk and picked the injection up out of the tray, then made his way back to the bed. I could feel myself start to panic, as I looked wide eyed at the large syringe, with the long sharp point.

The doctor stopped at the bed beside me, on my left side. He proceeded to open the alcohol wipe, and swiped it on my upper arm. But as he brought the needle towards me I backed away, covering my arm with my hand.

"It's ok, I'll do it real quick. You won't even feel it."

"No!"

Then he creased his eyebrows, leaving fine lines along his forehead. "You'll be fine, if you can handle a blade in your foot, this is _nothing_ compared. All you'll feel is a small pinch."

I shook my head, "No!" I repeated.

"Kiddo, it's alright." Soda soothed, "Here, hold my hand," he said, holding his right hand out, in hopes I'd remove my hand away from my arm, and hold his hand instead. I shook my head no.

"Come on kid, let's get this over with," the doctor said, his voice wasn't rough, but he sounded like he was getting slightly impatient, then brought the needle towards me again. I leaned into Soda more, trying to get as far away from that needle as I could, then Soda placed his hand on mine, and gently pried my hand away from my arm.

"No, Soda!"

"Shh..." he soothed, "just relax."

"No!" I screamed, as the doctor came towards me. I tried to fight Soda's hold on me, but it was no use, he held me in a strong grip. I thought my heart was gonna jump out of my chest it was beating that hard, my breathing became fast, so fast I couldn't slow it down. It was getting really shallow and quick, before I knew it I was full on hyperventilating.

"Pony!" Soda said, realising I was struggling to breath. In one smooth motion, he pulled me against his chest and held me tightly. "It's alright, Ponyboy. I'm here... just breathe okay...?" Soda said trying to soothe me, whilst softly stroking my back. "Slow, deep breaths kiddo... It's ok, Soda's here..."

I weakly grasped my fingers to my brothers shirt, holding a loose fist around the fabric as my panicking was taking on the next level. I held on to him like a lifeline - afraid of what might happen if I let go - as tears formed behind my eyelids, as I squeezed them tightly closed.

Soda hugged me tighter, as he gently rocked me back and forth. "Pony... just listen to my voice, okay?" He pressed my gripping hand against his chest. "Breathe like me, Pony... you can do it... just breathe like me..."

I cleared my mind from every other thought and tried focusing on Soda's reassuring words, letting him put my mind at ease. I began taking deep breaths following his instructions and soon my breathing was beginning to slow some.

I noticed the doctor watching me with scrunched eyebrows. He hadn't interfered, probably thought he'd see if Soda could calm me first, then step in if he had to.

"You _really_ had me scared there for a minute, kiddo... don't _ever_ do that to me again," Soda whispered, sounding on the verge of tears. He pulled me into his chest, as he continued to stroke my back.

"I-i'm sorry, Soda." I said, softly.

"It's ok, baby... it's ok. But, you _really_ need to relax, it's gonna hurt more if your all tensed up like that." He said, softly, but kept a firmness to his tone.

The doctor placed his hand to my arm, holding it with some firmness - so I don't move it, I'm sure. I began to tremble, and my eyes formed tears in them that had yet to fall.

Soda held me tighter, and grabbed my hand. "Just relax... take a deep breath, and count back from ten, baby." He whispered, giving my hand a comforting squeeze.

I held his hand tightly and closed my eyes, as I counted from ten in my head. The needle pierced through the skin in my arm, making me cry out, and the tears that had been waiting in my eyes rolled down my cheeks.

"It's all done, kiddo... it's over now," Soda gently massaged my arm where I had the shot put in, to help circulate the medicine, and reduce the pain.

I dried the tears from my face, on the hem of Soda's shirt. But didn't move from my position.

"Alright, all done. When you get home you can put some ice on that arm, it'll help with any redness or swelling," the doctor said, then paused before saying, "I'm going to prescribe you with some antibiotics, you take one pill twice a day till the packs finished. Alright, I think your good to go," the doctor finished.

Soda helped me off the table.

"Thanks." Soda smiled.

"You boys take care."

We exited the clinic, with me leaning on Soda for support. He unlocked Steve's car, helping me in, then placed his hand to the top of the car door.

"Kiddo, I just gotta run to the chemist."

I answered him with a nod.

"Ok, I'll be back in a minute." He closed the door, then took off towards the chemist.

I sat silently as I waited for Soda.

A few minutes later, he returned with a white paper bag in one hand. He opened his door, climbing in. Then glanced over at me, placing his hand to my knee, lightly rubbing it with his thumb.

"Hey kiddo, you ok?"

I nodded, as I moved my eyes toward my lap. But truth was - I _wasn't_, and I was sure that Soda _already_ knew.

Soda sighed, hesitating... like he wanted to say something more. But instead gave my knee a light pat, before starting the car.

...

Bella Lilac


	8. Life Changes

I watched as we pulled from the car park, out onto the main road. A car with two kids in the backseat, drove in the lane beside us. Their dad behind the wheel, with their mum in the passenger seat. The kids looked like they were arguing over something, but one didn't look any younger than me - it made me think. I wasn't anymore than a kid myself - but watching them - they looked carefree; like they didn't have a care in the world - but life changed when you didn't have parents.

I wondered briefly - did their parents tuck them in at nights... or, hold their hand when scared at the doctors... or even, tell them how much they were loved - my mom was beautiful, caring, and loving - her hugs _always_ so warm. She'd hold me in her arms, and place soft kisses to my head, saying "You'll always be my baby, Ponyboy." I can picture her soft, warm smile right now, as she said it - then she'd tell me, how much she loves me...

I could feel my eyes getting moist, and brushed at them hurriedly. I knew even though I didn't have my parents to do those things for me, I still had Sodapop... and I loved Soda more than I have anyone, even mum and dad. I turned my head, towards Soda. He noticed.

"You ok, kiddo?"

I nodded, feeling a sudden need of comfort. I slid over in my seat, moving as close to Soda as I could, then placed my head on his shoulder. He took one hand from the steering wheel, wrapping his arm around me, as he steered with the other.

We arrived home, pulling up on our front nature strip - as Darry's truck was already occupying the drive. He would have only gotten home, not even five minutes ago. I wonder if Two-Bit, or Steve had filled him in yet; I'm sure he would have been worried to find us not home. Soda helped me up the front porch steps, opening the fly screen.

Darry entered from the kitchen, as soon as he heard the door. "Ponyboy, are you ok? Two-Bit said something about you standing on a nail and how it was all his fault... Soda?" asked Darry, concerned, as to wondering what had happened.

"Yeah, Darry. I'll fill you in, in a second. I'm just gonna get Pony to bed, he needs to rest."

Soda helped me to our bedroom. He pulled the covers back on the bed, for me to climb in, then pulled them over me.

"I'll be back in a minute, kiddo."

He returned minutes later, with a glass filled with water, an ice pack and one of my pills.

"Honey, sit up... you need to take this."

I complied. He handed me the water and the pill. I put the pill in my mouth and washed it down with the water, then handed the glass back to Soda. He placed the ice pack on the injected area of my arm and told me to hold it there.

"Try get some rest, kiddo... I'll be in soon," he said, kissing my forehead, then walked out closing the door behind him.

Minutes later, I could hear Soda and Darry talking in the kitchen.

"Where's Steve and Two-Bit?" Soda asked.

"They left not long after I got home. Steve said he'll pick his car up tomorrow morning."

_Pause..._

Darry spoke up again. "I gave Two-Bit a good ear full when I got home, his _not_ to leave his beer lying around here anymore... So you gonna tell me what happened today?"

"Yeah... Two-Bit was fooling around with the garden hose and chasing Pony with it, he ran past the shed out the back and stepped on an' old rusty nail. I took him into the clinic." Soda said.

"How many times have I told that kid, not to run around down near there. It was _bound_ to happen sooner or later." Darry sounded angry.

"Yeah, Darry I know... but you didn't see him, he had to get a Tetanus shot. I've never seen him _that_ scared, not even before a rumble; he started hyperventilating Darry." Soda said, sounding on the verge of tears.

"Yeah, his always been afraid of shots... but never that bad."

"I know."

_Pause_...

"I might go and lie down with him." I heard Soda say.

"Ok, little buddy." Darry replied, then I heard footsteps coming down the hall and the bedroom door creak open.

"Hey, Pony." Soda said, coming into our room.

"Hey, Soda."

"How you feeling, baby?" he asked, as he climbed in beside me.

"Sore." I mumbled. He placed his arm around me, pulling me to his chest, then lightly ran his fingers along my sore arm.

"I know, honey... just relax, close your eyes." I closed my eyes, feeling a little sleepy; probably the drowsy affect from the medicine. I curled up against Soda and focused on the soft tingles on my arm from Soda's fingers, rather than the pain.

Next thing I know, I'm been shaken roughly. I knew it was Darry - his always rough with me, though I'm sure he doesn't mean to be. I opened my eyes, sleepily.

"Hey kiddo, get up... dinners ready."

"Hmm, do I have to?" I moaned, sleepily.

"Yeah... you do, come on it's getting cold."

I yawned, turning over, but the spot behind me was empty. "Where's Soda?"

"His in the kitchen... _hopefully_ setting the table, like I asked..."

I yawned again, and sat up, feeling the coldness of the room hit me.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, as he helped me stand.

"Tired... sore." I mumbled.

"Ok, well... you can take some Tylenol after dinner."

I sat down at the table, placing my elbow on the top and resting my head in the palm of my hand, as I watched Soda place bowls of pasta on the table. Then he grabbed three glasses from the cupboard, pouring chocolate milk in two of them and water in the third, he slid a glass of chocolate milk towards me and the water to Darry.

I reluctantly picked up my fork, stabbing a couple of pasta's, and put them in my mouth - chewing slowly; feeling drained of _all_ energy. Then sat there, staring glassy eyed into my bowl, prodding the pasta with my fork.

"You ok? Your looking a little flush, kiddo." Darry leaned towards me, placing the back of his hand on my forehead. I didn't answer, just kept staring at my food.

"Hmm... you do feel a bit warm. Maybe go lie down, if your not gonna eat anymore."

I stood up, putting my full bowl of food on the bench. Then slowly made my way into the lounge, curling up on the couch. Feeling sleepy, I closed my eyes.

After a minute, I felt someone lightly rub my arm.

"Baby, lean up." I sleepily lifted myself up, keeping my eyes closed. Soda placed his hands on my upper arms, helping me, then sat down placing my head in his lap. He wrapped one arm around my chest, as he felt my forehead and cheek with his other hand.

"Darry?" Soda called.

Darry's footsteps entered the lounge. "Yeah, Soda?"

"Could you bring an ice pack, and also the thermometer?" Soda asked, though it wasn't really a question.

He left the room, only to return minutes after.

"Pony, open your mouth for me." I obliged, he placed the thermometer under my tongue, then I closed my mouth.

Soda held the cold pack to my arm, it did help a little to soothe the pain. The beeping of the thermometer sounded, and Darry slid it from my mouth.

"101.8... it's a fever, but not too high. It's normally common after a tetanus shot."

I groaned, keeping my eyes shut. Soda ran his fingers through my hair.

"Either way, I want you to head back to bed."

"Can't I stay out here." I whined.

"No. Bed." He said, using his parental tone.

I stood up, pouting, "There's no need for that face, kiddo. Go."

I limped slowly to my bedroom, sulking to myself. I changed into my sleep pants, then climbed back into bed, again. Soda came in about fifteen minutes later, changing, then slid into bed beside me.

"Pony?" Soda whispered.

I didn't answer - pretending I was already asleep. I didn't feel much up to talking anyway. My arm was excruciating, and my head was throbbing with a headache.

"Kiddo, I know your not asleep." He tried again.

Soda is the only person, who can read me a little _too_ well. It's almost impossible to lie to him. But even so... I still didn't answer. He sat up, leaning over the top of me.

"Hey... it's ok." I'm sure he noticed the remaining tear tracks down my cheeks. He placed an arm around my chest, then whispered. "What's the matter, honey?"

That just made me tear up again.

"Baby, it's ok... tell me what's wrong, so I can fix it." He spoke gently.

"I-i feel like shit, S-soda... my arm is damn well killing me." I sobbed, softly.

He raised his hand, but paused mid air, then placed it back down on the bed. He probably figured I was already in enough pain, without him causing me more, so he settled with saying, "Watch your language, Pony. Let me take a look at your arm?"

I nodded, whilst massaging my temples.

He carefully took my arm, in his hand. "Hmm... it's a little swollen, and red. I'll get the ice pack." He climbed out of bed, standing up - but didn't move. I could feel his eyes on me.

"Have you got a headache?" he asked. I nodded again, before he exited the room.

He returned minutes later, sitting on the edge of the bed. He handed me two aspirin, which I washed down with the glass of water he gave me. Then he placed the empty glass on the bedside, after I handed it back.

He slid back into bed, wrapped his arm around me, and pulled me to his chest. Then placed the ice on my arm, holding it for me.

"Try get some sleep, honey," he said, placing a kiss to my head.

It was hard to drift off, with the constant pain in my arm. Eventually the cold from the ice numbed the pain enough, letting me fall into a restless sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

...

Bella Lilac


	9. Teenager Plus Boredom Equals Attitude

Over the course of the next few days, I still wasn't aloud out the house. The pain in my arm hadn't lessened, and I couldn't fully walk on my foot without pain, so it didn't bother me too much. I read almost half the books I owned, watched the day time television, and laid out in my favourite branch in the oak tree.

But... by the fifth day I was _so_ board, I was driving myself... and, everyone around me, stir crazy. My foot had healed - to the point where I could walk on it, and the pain in my arm had minimised to a light tingling.

Both my brothers were home today, as neither of them have work, it being a Sunday. Darry said this morning, he wanted us to clean up around the house - and has been giving out orders all morning, to both Soda and I.

"But... I don't want to clean Darry. I want to go out, I'm _bored_." I whined.

"Well, little buddy... you won't be bored when you go and clean the bathroom, there's plenty to do in there." He said, as he hammered a nail into the porch railing.

"But, that's _boring_..."

I followed him back into the house, into the kitchen.

"Only if you make it boring, kiddo. You've only got two more days of grounding left, then your free to go out."

He pulled a bottle of bathroom spray and cloth from the cupboard, beneath the kitchen sink, handing them to me. I scowled at them, not moving.

"Go..." he said, pointing towards the bathroom.

He already had Soda off doing the laundry.

I sulked to the bathroom, dragging my feet. I hurriedly picked the toothbrushes up from the bench, shoving them into the bathroom cup, and gave the bench top a few quick sprays, giving it a half assed wipe...

"_See_, told you it'd be boring Darry." I mumbled to myself as I walked back out to the kitchen, finding Darry with his head under the kitchen sink cupboard, hunting for something.

"I'm done!" my tone came across sharp. I sat the spray bottle down a little harder then I intended, and tossed the cloth in the sink.

"Ponyboy, watch the attitude. You can't be finished that quick... did you actually clean anything, while you were in there?" Darry asked, as he leaned out from the cupboard, and raised his eyebrows.

"Of course I _did_..."

"Ponyboy, I won't tell you again... watch the attitude. I'm gonna take a look." I dragged my feet again, following him back to the bathroom.

"Look... your not finished. You haven't put that away - there's hair grease still sitting there, and a comb, and you haven't done the toilet."

He left the bathroom, with me still standing there. I opened the mirrored cupboard on the wall, and shoved the stuff from the bench into it. Then ran the toilet brush around the rim of the toilet bowl. Then I stomped through the house, and out the door, letting the flyscreen slam. Darry called out after me, but I ignored him.

I climbed into my favourite branch in the tall oak, looking up into the blue sky. There sure were a lot of clouds out today. As I was looking at all the clouds, I spotted one that looked a bit like a rabbit, with two long clouds making the ears. I let my eyes wonder around the sky seeing if could make more animals - if that cloud moved over a bit, then it would look like a hippopotamus, I thought.

About an hour later, Darry called - saying it was time for lunch.

I climbed down from my spot in the tree and walked toward the house, swinging the flyscreen open and letting it slam shut behind me again. Then headed for the kitchen, sitting down at the table with a heavy thud.

"Pony!" Darry warned, turning to look at me, then turned back continuing on the sandwiches.

I scowled at him, when he wasn't looking.

My head immediately turned toward the kitchen door, as I heard the front flyscreen open, and figured Two-Bit, or Steve were here.

"Soda?" Steve called.

"Laundry." His footsteps disappeared down the hallway, toward the laundry.

"Heya' kiddo... are those for me Darry, ohh... you shouldn't have gone to so much trouble," Two-Bit said, coming up behind me, and pulling my chair back, then dropped it down with a loud bang.

"No, there not for you Two-Bit. I swear you always manage to turn up when there's food, don't you have enough food at you own house... and stop banging those chairs around. Pony's been doing enough banging around here as it is."

"Oh... you know me Darry. I just like your cooking better." Two-Bit said, grabbing one of the sandwich halves off the plate, eating nearly the whole thing in one bite.

"I'm not banging around anything." I said, scowling.

"Yeah, have been been kid, and you need to cut it out. You've been in a bad mood since this morning and it needs to stop," then he turned to look down the hallway.

"Soda, Steve you better get out here if you want any lunch, before Two-Bit eats it all."

"I don't need to cut anything out, you need to cut it out... your the one that's been at me all day." I grumbled, crossing my arms.

Two-Bit looked at me raising an eyebrow, eating his third sandwich. Soda and Steve came into the kitchen to see what was for lunch, taking a sandwich half each.

"Ponyboy, that's _enough_. I haven't been at you all day. I only asked you to clean the bathroom, so this attitude thing you've got going on, needs to stop. Now eat some lunch." Darry held a firm tone.

"No, I don't want any... and I don't have an attitude, you do." I know from painful experience, it's not wise to talk back... but he was getting under my skin.

"Pony!" Soda warned.

"You'd better cut it out right now, if you know what's good for you, kid." Darry's voice rose a couple of notches.

I scowled at him. Then to really piss him off... I leaned back in my chair again, dropping it forward with a loud bang. Darry's eye twitched... good at least he knows I'm mad at him.

"Kid, I wouldn't do that if I were you." Steve said, as he took a bite from his lunch.

"Shut it, Steve," I mouthed to him; this has _nothing_ to do with him anyway, so he can just shut up.

"All I said is, I wouldn't do that."

"Yeah, and _all_ I said is for you to shut it." I mouthed back. Soda was giving me a look to say, 'that's enough.' But I guess Steve wanted his turn to piss me off now.

"You've got a real mouth on you, you know that kid." Steve said.

"Yeah... and you've got an annoying voice when you speak like that, but do you hear me complain." I smarted back.

"You know what you need, kid... you need another good tanning from your brothers, cause I think you need to learn how to show them some respect."

"I said, shut it Steve." I yelled at him.

"Ponyboy, if you keep this up, I might just do what Steve suggested. Now cut it out." Darry warned me.

I pouted, looking at him. "But his the one that started it, why do I always get all the blame."

"No Pony, you've been running around sulking and giving me attitude all day." Darry said, crossing his arms.

"No I haven't, I said I was bored and wanted to go out." I copied him, crossing my arms as well.

"Your not going out and you know why, this topic is over, understood?"

"But _why_?" I whined.

"Ponyboy, no more!" He said, sternly.

"Ponyboy, no more!" I mimicked him.

"That's enough!" Darry's voice raised.

"That's enough!" I smirked, this was actually fun.

I glanced to Soda; he hadn't said much through this whole thing. But I could tell from his expression, he was rather taken aback. He caught my eye - giving me firm look, as he shook his head - warning me to stop.

"That's it, kid. You won't think it's funny, when I'm finished with you." Darry used his parental tone, walking towards me.

Shit... I leapt out of my chair, trying to get away to the safety of my bedroom. I made it about half way, when Darry caught me from behind. He held my upper arm in a firm grasp, turned me around, and gave me a hard smack across my backside. I cried out from the shock and sudden sting, and tried to struggle out of his grip.

But he tightened his hold, giving me another hard slap with his calloused hand that made me gasp and wince.

He raised his hand again, and brought it down harder than the last. "_Oww_... D-darry, stop. I'll be good."

He landed a few more over my now sore backside, before he bent me further over so I was almost touching my toes and slapped the underside of my bottom, with each slap making me cry out.

Tears ran thick and fast down my cheeks, landing in the worn in carpet, as I sucked back shaky sobs.

I knew the guys could hear everything, from out in the kitchen _and that_ only made it _that much_ worse, knowing they heard me - crying and begging, getting my backside smacked like a little kid... it was humiliating.

He stopped, and stood me upright, looking in my tear soaked eyes.

"Don't you _ever_ talk back to me like that again!" He growled, making me flinch. "When I give an answer, that answer is final, understood? Don't you _ever_ challenge my decision, if I say no, it means no... and if your gonna keep acting like brat I won't tolerate it, next time it'll be the belt, understood?" He said, firmly, keeping direct eye contact.

I nodded, with continuous tears streaming down my face, "Good, go to your room and stay there until I call you." I didn't wait a second after. I took off to my room, slamming the door, and landed stomach first on my bed, crying into my pillow.

...

Bella Lilac


	10. Rebellion

After a good amount of time passed, and my tears had stopped. I heard someone give a light knock at my bedroom door. "Pony, it's just me... can I come in?" Soda called.

"No, Go away!"

He opened the door and entered anyway... _seriously, what was the point on asking if you were going to come in anyway_, I thought angrily to myself.

"You ok, kiddo?" He asked.

I didn't answer him. I just turned the other way so I didn't have to look at him, but he sat on the bed anyway, and lightly rubbed my back. I wiggled trying to shake his hand off, but he didn't budge.

"I know your upset kiddo, but you did push Darry to his limit. You know better then to talk back to him like that, and I also know, I would of done the exact same thing if it were me." He sighed lightly, and paused - either waiting to see if I'd respond or wanting me to think about what he just said, as he continued rubbing my back.

"Go away, Soda..." I mumbled into my pillow, and sniffed.

"I'm not going anywhere kiddo, and you see, you have this bit of a problem... it _is_ sort of my room too," I could hear a hint of a smile in his voice, "so legally, I'm aloud to stay," he paused, waiting. I sighed and wiped at my eyes, turning my head the other way to look at him.

"Hey kiddo." Soda gave me a small smile, looking at me with pleading eyes for me to talk. When I didn't say anything, he tried another approach.

"Pony, I just wanna know your ok?" But he was only met by more silence from me.

He sighed, "You gonna say somethin' kiddo, cause it's not very fun talking to myself?"

I knew he was trying, and he's not the one I'm mad at after all. I pouted, with my red rimmed eyes, answering him. "It's not fair Soda, all I wanted to do was go out. I'm bored of being cooped up in this house."

"I know honey, but you know Darry's not going to let you out. Tell you what... when your two days are up, I'll take you somewhere special - the movies or anywhere. Have a think of what you'd like to do, sound like a plan?" He gave me a warm smile.

I nodded.

"Come on, let's go see what the guys are doing. Who knows... we might need to rescue Darry and Steve from one of Two-Bit's crazy stories." He chuckled.

"But... Darry said I'm not aloud to leave my room."

"I think I could persuade him, you've been in here long enough."

I looked at him, unsure.

But his smile told me the opposite.

"C'mon," he said, standing up from the bed, and I followed him out to the lounge.

Soda was _almost_ right. Two-Bit was cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the couch, deep in some fantasy story about a blond named Wendy. Steve was stretched out on the couch, looking rather uninterested. But Darry was nowhere in sight.

He must of heard us come out from the bedroom, cause not long after he entered from the kitchen, with folded arms.

"Pony-" He started, but was cut short.

"Darry, can I talk to you?"

Darry eyed me for a second, before turning back to the kitchen with Soda following.

I could hear every word said, and it was all about me.

"Darry before you go in there and say anything, I let him come out."

"Soda he was in there for a good reason-" Soda cut him off, again.

"I know Darry... I know he was acting out of line, but it's hard on him being cooped up all day."

"Well, he should have thought about that before undermining my authority and drank beer... and that still doesn't excuse his behaviour."

"Yeah, I know... I would of done the exact same thing." Soda's voice lowered, I had to strain to hear him.

I should have just stayed in my room.

Blocking out the rest of their conversation, not wanting to hear how much of a disappointment I'd been. I turned my attention to Two-Bit's one too many tales of his love life.

"So this chick she had the biggest boobs man, you should of seen em'... get this, she comes up to me and says - Haven't I seen you from somewhere? and I say - Yeah baby, every night in your dreams." He laughed, hard. "You should of seen the look on her face man, it was priceless." Two-Bit said, looking very proud of his accomplishment.

"I'm sure it was, Two-Bit." Steve had the look of - he'd rather be anywhere else other than here - he had one arm folded beneath his head as the other rested over his chest, with his eyes focused solely on the ceiling above him - as he listened to Two-Bit ramble on.

I got tied of listening to them and went out to the porch to have a smoke. I leaned against the porch rail lighting a cigarette, taking in a deep breath. It was getting later in the afternoon now, with the low glow of sunlight bouncing from the lower porch steps, as it swept it's ever fading stream of sheen down the cracked pavement, and beamed from the un-rusted metal of the front gate. The late afternoon glow soon to be bringing it's darkened shadows down upon the streets to let the world know that darkness would be here within only a mere short hours.

It's not fair that Darry grounded me anyway. Both my brothers tanned me, then I get grounded too... well Soda's was more due to the fact of me not listening, but even so...

I looked across the street. I needed to get out, even just for a bit. My mind was going crazy being cooped up, and today showed it. I looked in through the screen door, to see if anyone would notice me slip away. Two-Bit hadn't moved, but was now watching Mickey Mouse on TV. Soda and Steve sat either ends of the coffee table, playing a round of poker, but I couldn't see Darry.

I didn't know if this was such a smart idea, still feeling the sting in my butt from before. But I knew I'd go nuts if I stay here any longer.

I quietly left the porch, and climbed over the gate so it didn't make the squeaking sound from opening it, then ran as fast as I could down the street. I didn't stop running until I was a good two blocks away, then slowed down to a walk.

I was taking quick long strides down the sidewalk, with a million thoughts running through my head, when I heard my name being called.

"Hey baby Curtis, slow down would ya!" I stopped and looked behind me, seeing Curly trying to catch up.

"Geez, you walk like you've got fire in your pants." He said, trying to catch his breath.

"Hey, Curly."

"Where ya headed, Curtis?" He asked.

"Nowhere, just needed to get outta the house for a bit." I said, talking my pack of smokes from my back pocket, then hunted around for my lighter. I pulled a stick out lighting it, then offered Curly, he took one lighting up as well.

"Wanna try an' hunt some action?" asked Curly, as he exhaled the smoke.

"Whatever!" Darry was gonna have my hide for taking off anyway, so... what the hell.

I assume it must be nearing six o'clock now, as all the street lamps had started to turn on. As we strolled down the street, Curly kicked the lamps back out - making the darkened street, that much darker.

We stopped in front of a little convenience store, a couple of guys hung out the front. I followed Curly as he walked up to them; my guess was, they where part of the Shepard's gang. The guy on the left had a scar running down his cheek to his chin bone, the other had long sideburns like Two-Bit's, but his eyes were hard just like Dally's were.

"Hey Tony, David," Curly called.

"Hey Curly, whose the kid?" The one with the scar asked, whom I'm assuming is Tony.

"His Darrel Curtis' kid brother." Curly answered.

Tony gave me a node, as David said, "Hey."

I returned a "Hey," back, hitching my thumbs in my back pockets and slouching to look a little tougher.

"Can you guys do us a favour?" Curly asked.

"Whadya' need curly?" replyed David.

"We need some spray paint, and a couple of beers would be good."

"And what's in it for us?" David shot back.

"I'll tell my big brother not to bash your heads in, from getting caught by the fuzz stealing them hubcaps the other week." Curly answered.

One rule is... if your going to do something stupid, the next rule is... you better hope you don't get caught. I take it these nuftys weren't quick enough getting away.

"Fine," Tony agreed.

They exited the store and strolled over to us, with four cans of spray and a six pack of beer. Curly took the spray from them, handing me two tins, then grabbed the beer.

"Let's go." He said.

He handed me a beer, then opened one for himself. I had a flashback of what happened last time I drank, but then the thought was gone as quickly as it came. I opened my beer taking a drink as we walked into an alleyway, stopping at a large brick wall.

"Alright, you ready to spray paint the crap outta this wall?" Curly said, taking a swig of his beer.

I gave a nod shaking up one of my cans, opening the lid, then wrote in large black letters - 'LIFES A BITCH!' I stepped back looking at it, then drew a large cartoon hand with the middle finger extended, writing 'PISS OFF' across the middle of it.

I looked across to Curly's work, he hadn't done much more than me. It felt good doing something Darry wouldn't approve of. His been really pissing me off lately, so now it's my turn to piss him off.

After that we walked around for awhile with Curly telling me some story of how he beat off four Socs with his blade, "They all ran off like the cowards they are." He said, finishing off his third beer. I noticed we were getting too close to Soc's territory.

"Curly, what are we doin' here?" I asked, slightly nervous.

"Just follow me," he said, keeping his cool. "where gonna get payback to those Soc's that tried to jump me the other day - good and proper."

"B-but, I thought you said you won?" I said, finishing off my third beer as well, throwing the bottle into the bushes.

He turned and looked at me. "I did," he replied simply.

"Well then... why do we need to get payback?"

"To teach them that they shouldn't mess with me. C'mon." He answered; reluctantly I followed him.

We came to a stop standing if front of a massive, red brick, two story house - it featured two large white columns, each containing their own vinyl porch railing on either side, with large grey steps leading up to a grand entrance. The front garden was perfectly manicured, with a tuff looking red Mustang sitting out the front.

"That's the one." He said, pointing towards the house. Then pulled his switch blade out of his back pocket, walking around to one of the tyres of the Mustang. He pierced his blade into it, making about a two inch slice, then pulled his blade back out.

"Don't just stand there Curtis, give me a hand!"

I pulled my blade from my back pocket and walked over to one of the tyres, stabbing it like Curly had done, then pulled it out. _This is actually quite fun_, I thought, then walked over to the next tyre doing the same.

Curly came over handing me a can of spray paint, that we had left over from before. He shook his can opening it, then started spraying the side of the car, I shook mine and started on the windscreen. I had just started on the other side of the car when the front door of the house opened and someone yelled, "What do you kids think your doing!?"

We dropped the cans and took off running as fast as we could, I don't think I even ran this fast in track practice at school, we didn't stop till we were well and truly back in our territory again. Curly was doubled over trying to get his breath back, then he started laughing, "That was the most fun I've had in awhile, did you see the look on his face?"

"Curly, what if he saw our faces, and calls the cops the state will find out." I yelled at him. I was now angry at him and his stupid ideas.

"He didn't see us... it's too dark and we took off too quick for him to see us."

"I hope your right, Curly." I said, looking at him.

"I always am." He gave me a smug look. I didn't feel like getting slugged, so I held my come back.

We snuck in under the wire fence to the Dingo, it looked like it was getting onto about ten o'clock now. We strolled over to the area with parked cars, that had been lined up side by side, with about four foot between them. Lots of people hung in or around the cars, catching the latest gossip, or maybe getting stone dumb drunk, or - like Two-Bit, and most other guys - trying to get a date for the night.

This was one of the popular places to hang out at night.

I reached for my almost empty pack of Kool's, sliding one from the crumpled packet, then held the unlit stick loosely between my lips. I fished my lighter from my back pocket and held the small flicking flame to the end of my smoke, producing a reddened glow of burning ambers, then drew deeply. I slowly exhaled the smoke into the warm nights air, turning to Curly beside me, who was now lost in conversation with another hood. I glanced around, taking in any action that was near by, as I turned further, I spotted someone - but unfortunately not just anyone, standing out from the crowd. He was drinking a Budweiser, leaning against the hood of an ol' Buick.

"Shit." I cursed to nobody in particular.

I turned back to Curly, who had the other guy listening rather intently - I wondered briefly if he was saying what we'd done to the Soc's earlier, though I'd rather he didn't - he tells one person, it'll soon get around, till the Soc's themselves find out who'd done it. I roughly grabbed ahold of his upper arm, in a desperate need to leave.

"Hey, hey Curly, we gotta get outta here!" I panicked, trying to pull him away.

"Yeah, ok kid." He answered, absentmindedly.

I noticed Steve turn in my direction, as he tilted his beer to take another swig, but his hand stopped mid-air - his angry glare fixed right on me. _Shit_... now his seen me. He set his beer down, before making his way towards me, looking not at all too happy.

I looked around me, seeing if I could make an escape. But knew it was pointless now. Steve reached me, taking a firm grasp on my arm.

"Where the hell have you been, kid? Darry's mighty pissed at you right now for taking off like that. I'd hate to be in your shoes once he gets a hold of ya. C'mon kid, I'm taking you home."

I struggled against him, trying to free myself. "Steve, let go!" my voice coated with panic, as rushed thoughts of what Darry might do flooded my mind.

Curly now turned towards me. "What were you saying, Curtis?" He asked, having finished his conversation. I rolled my eyes, thinking bit slow off the mark there Curly.

"Oh, hey Steve." Curly greeted, only just noticing him standing there. I'm sure you've already figured - his certainly not the smartest person I've ever met.

"Hey Curly, I'm taking the kid home. You comin' or stayin'?" Steve asked. _Please stay - please stay - please stay_, I pleaded silently.

"Comin'." Curly answered. _Crap_... he'd better keep his big mouth shut, or his gonna get me into a shit load more trouble.

Well my wishful thinking of wanting him to keep shut miserably failed. We had a long walk back to the house, and Curly decided to fill Steve in on every tiny little detail of 'the most fun his had in a while' as he put it.

"What the hell where you thinkin' kid." Steve yelled angrily, slapping me across the head. I kept quiet, and rubbed the back of my head where he'd hit. "Just wait till Darry hears about this. Geez kid... as if you weren't already in enough trouble."

"Don't tell Soda, please Steve." I begged, scared of what Soda might think, or do.

Steve stopped suddenly, his grip on my arm tightening, as he turned to face me. "Oh, I'm gonna tell Soda alright, and I'm gonna bet he'll be just as pissed as Darry," replied Steve, before dragging me down the sidewalk again.

We stopped at the gate in front of my house, "You ready, kid?" Steve actually did look a bit concerned for me, and I bet I looked just as scared on the outside as I did on the inside. I glanced at him worriedly, then bit my lip, turning my eyes towards the ground.

"C'mon, kid. Curly just wait here, I'll be out in a minute."

Steve walked me up the porch steps, and opened the screen door with a slight hesitation. We didn't get far in the door, when Soda rushed out from the kitchen, seeing who'd come in. When he noticed me his eyes changed from concerned to angry in a split second.

"Ponyboy, where were you!?"

"Soda, come here for a minute." Steve said, walking towards the kitchen. Soda firmly grasped my arm, then pushed me down onto the couch, by my shoulders.

"You stay right there, don't even _think_ about moving." His tone and expression one I'd _never_ seen before on my happy-go-lucky brother. He then joined Steve in the kitchen, I could just faintly hear Steve filling Soda in on what Curly had only just told him.

Steve gave me a grave look, as he walked past me. "Good luck, kid," he said, before heading back out the door. Soda remained in the kitchen, probably to mad to come out.

When he did come out, I'd wished he didn't.

He walked out unbuckling his black belt, then pulled it from the belt loops of his dark denim jeans. I felt my heart skip a beat - he couldn't

...

Bella Lilac

A/N - Just a quick thanks for all the lovely reviews from my readers, they are much appreciated. Bella.


	11. No Place To Hide

**WARNING: Contains Spanking**

Soda didn't look at me when he walked in... he didn't even say anything. I swear I could see tears in his eyes. He just walked over to the front door, closing the main door, then locked it.

He came over to where I was sitting and sat down beside me, placing the belt down on the couch next to him. I was too stunned to move. But as his hand grasped my forearm, with him pulling me towards his lap - I broke out of my stupor.

"No, no... please Soda. I'll be good, I promise." I begged him desperately, trying to wriggle from his strong grasp.

But all my struggling fazed him none, as he secured me over his lap, with his left arm tucked around my waist holding me in place. He landed a firm smack to my jean-clad bottom to still me, I yelped out more in surprise. Then he proceeded in unfastening my jeans, and hooked his thumbs in the waistband, sliding them to my knees.

I was surprised to see he only raised his hand and not the belt, either way he brought it down hard on my backside. I yelped again as the harsh smack burned through the thin material of my boxers, giving off a slight throbbing to my backside.

He raised his hand again, landing it with another loud slap - the sound filling the quiet lounge. He continued in a slow, but firm tempo - with me yelping and owwing as each one landed. By the fifth one tears had started their way down my cheeks along with my soft sobs, and I couldn't help my squirming across my older brothers knee, I felt Soda automatically tighten his grip around my waist, without even a slight hesitation.

I couldn't believe how much my bothers hand hurt! The pain grew worse the more he tanned me. He was getting in a routine now making each smack harder than the last, or maybe he wasn't _making_ them harder, that they just _felt_ harder on my burning behind - but, he just kept landing them while I sobbed.

I was too caught up in my emotions, not realising he'd stopped. He brought his hand to my middle back rubbing soothing, gentle circles. But the relief only lasted for a few seconds before stopping, and that's when I noticed he'd picked up the belt.

"N-no... no Soda." I cried, while trying to struggle out of his grip, to get off his knee.

"P-please, I'll... I'll never do it again. Please... Soda." He placed his leg across the back of my legs holding me firmly in place, then folded the belt bringing it down hard on my already reddened backside.

I screamed, "No, S-soda!"

I could see him raise it into the air again; I kicked my legs hoping to loosen his grip, but failed miserably, he was a lot stronger than I am and his grip too tight. The belt came down with a loud swoosh, causing me to jump from the sharp sting, and the pain shot right through me. I full on screamed, while the tears continually flowed like a river running down my cheeks.

He kept bringing that damn belt down on my burning backside, working up a rhythmic pattern. My ass was burning something awful. I reckon the neighbours would call the cops thinking someone's being murdered at the rate I was screaming and carrying on.

My hand flew to my stinging butt for protection, but Soda grabbed it in an instant holding it firmly in place on my lower back, before continuing.

Then I felt him re-adjusting his position, and raising his right knee - tilting me forwards. He swung the belt again, but this time hitting my sensitive under curve and the back of my bare thighs. I tell you that hurt a lot more then the belting I just received over my backside. I was screaming loud enough to wake the dead and I couldn't stop bawling to save myself.

Suddenly he stopped.

"Shh... I-it's over now, Pony... It's over." His voice cracked, as he sniffed. He hadn't said anything this whole time. I was starting to think he must be that angry with me, that he didn't ever want to talk to me again.

Even after he told me it was over, I didn't want to move. I was too afraid it'll hurt more if I did. I'm sure I'd only received fifteen or so licks of the belt, but it felt more like fifty. My backside literally felt like it'd been set ablaze.

I didn't think I was ever going to be able to sit down again, at least not in this life time. I kicked my jeans completely off, not wanting the harsh material anywhere near my burning posterior, and stayed over his knee as deep sobs shook my body.

"I'm s-sorry, Soda... I'm so, so s-sorry." I sobbed.

"It's ok, baby... it's ok now." Soda gently hushed, as he resumed running a soothing hand up and down my back, trying to comfort me.

After a few minutes the harshness of my sobs lessened. Soda carefully helped me off of his knee, so I was standing. Then he stood up, wrapping his arms around me, and continued rubbing my back. I buried my head against his chest, as slow sobs continually racked through my body.

Eventually my cries died down, with only the occasional sniffle. I shifted my position, and glanced up at Soda, noticing his eyes were slightly red and teary; so... that's why he hadn't talked, I bet this was just as hard for him as it was for me.

I now felt bad assuming that he didn't want to talk to me. I knew in my heart that Soda could never not talk to me... but it was my mind trying to tell me otherwise.

I took a couple of deep breaths, to control my voice. I had a question I needed to ask, since walking in the front door.

"S-soda, where's Darry?" I sniffled, wiping at my eyes.

"I'm not sure, baby." His voice on the verge of worry, but held some sadness.

He sighed lightly, pulling back from me. "C'mon kiddo, it's getting late. You need to try an' get some sleep."

Soda unlocked the front door, then led me down to our room, handing me my sleepwear. I pulled on the red checkered pants, wincing as they slid over my scorching bottom. I climbed into bed laying on my stomach, then placed my hands to my burning behind, trying to rub the sting out.

Soda sat down on the edge of the bed, placing his hands over mine, stopping them. I glanced up at him with my red teary eyes and a pout.

"No rubbing, kiddo," my pout deepened; guess he wants me to feel the sting. I winced as I removed my hands from my behind, and folded them up under my head instead, burying my facing in them.

His hand moved to the middle of my back, softly massaging it. I'm glad he was at least still comforting me, it made the pain just that little bit more bearable.

We both turned towards the bedroom door, when we heard the front door opening.

"Stay here, honey." Soda's tone was light, but held warning. He stood up from the bed, walking towards the door, after he exited the room he closed the door behind him

"Where is he, Soda!?" Darry yelled, slamming the front door.

"He's sleeping Darry. Where have you been anyway, it's been hours?" Soda held a light tone, but after pausing, it turned to one rather concerned. "Have you been drinking, Darry?"

"While I was hunting around the _whole damn_ town looking for him, I ran into Tim Shepard down at Bucks. He told me all the stupid stunts his empty-headed brother and Ponyboy were causing. Did Ponyboy _happen_ to tell you what those two shits got up to?" Darry was shouting that loud, I wouldn't be surprise if half the neighbourhood could hear him.

"Steve told me." I heard Soda say.

"Slashing tyres, vandalising property, spray painting windshields, not to mention drinking again. I'm gonna make his ass hurt _that_ bad, he won't be sitting for a month." Darry hollered, making the walls shake.

Then I heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall, along with the sound of a belt buckle jingling towards my bedroom.

I panicked.

There was no time to try climbing out of my window, the only other place I could think to hide quickly was under my bed.

I scurried to the edge of my bed, practically falling off the side and slid as fast as I could under my bed looking at the bottom of the bedroom door.

"D-don't, Darry. Stop... I-i've already punished him." I could hear the desperation in Soda's voice. The heavy thud of footsteps stopped in the front of my door.

"You did!?" I could tell Darry was shocked just by the sound in his voice, that Soda would actually spank me. I was a little too, to be honest. But what I _didn't_ know, was... it _wouldn't_ be the last time he'd do it either.

"After Steve brought him home, he explained everything Pony and Curly had done; not to mention Pony running off while he was grounded and I had just let him out his room as well. I was _absolutely_ furious Darry. I don't think I've ever been so mad with him ever. I pulled Pony over my knee and gave him a good dose of the belt." Soda said, in a rather firm tone.

"Well, Soda, what did I tell you. I'd put him in his room for good reason. This may not have happened if you'd just left him-"

Soda cut him off. "I know, Darry, but-"

"No, Soda. Listen, next time mind my authority. Even though I'm furious at him, I'll let it be seeing as the situation has already been delt with, but just remember, I_ am_ still _your_ legal guardian until your eighteen. Don't think that I can't still punish you." For a split second the room filled with silence, before Darry cleared his throat. "I'm gonna head off to bed, I need to be up early for work tomorrow." I heard his heavy footsteps walk away from the door, and down the hallway towards his bedroom.

I figured the coast was clear and started wiggling out from under the bed, but I wasn't quick enough. Soda opened the door walking in, seeing me half under the bed still.

He gave me a confused look, "What are ya doin' under there, kiddo?"

"Umm... I was, ummm... I was trying to find something under here." I said trying to sound convincing, but I could tell by the look on his face he didn't believe me for one second.

"C'mon, let's get you back to bed." He grabbed me under the arm hauling me to my feet, then I climbed back into bed, laying on my stomach again.

Soda put on his night clothes, then sat down on the edge of the bed looking at me.

"What are ya' lookin' at, Soda?" I frowned at him, with my red teary-rimmed eyes.

"You do know, that I know the _real_ reason why you were under there, don't you kiddo?... and you can't trick me and say you were hunting for something, cause I know you weren't." Soda said, looking at me with a hint of a smirk.

"But Soda, I really _was_ trying to find something." I tried to sound innocent, giving him my best puppy dog look.

"You can't fool me Pony, I have been your big brother for fourteen years. I do know when your not telling the truth." He said, lightly smacking my sore bottom, then he grabbed my arm and started tickling me everywhere.

I was laughing so hard I had tears.

"S-stop... Soda... please stop." I said through laughter.

He stopped tickling me, but we were both still laughing. He climbed over me to get to his side, then wiggled under the covers putting his arm around me, snuggling me into his chest.

Neither of us spoke. I just lay there feeling the warmth from my brother's strong embrace and thought everything over as to what happened, figuring I should confess to Soda that I was frightened, he'll understand.

"Soda, it really scared me when I heard Darry coming. I even heard him unbuckle his belt. I really thought I was in for it again. I didn't know what to do, Soda." I whispered.

"You know, you shouldn't have to hide kiddo. The last thing I want is for you to feel afraid, and plus you know I wouldn't let Darry do that, after you'd just been punished." Soda whispered firmly, to let me know he was being serious.

"But I heard you get in trouble, Soda."

He gave a flick of his hand, to dismiss my concern. "Don't worry 'bout it."

He paused for a second, and leaned closer to my ear. Before he continued in a lighter tone, but kept some firmness.

"When I let you come out of your room today, I didn't expect you to take off like you did. You don't know how worried I was when I found out you were gone. I'm really disappointed in you Ponyboy, for disobeying my trust like that," he sighed, before continuing.

"Then when Steve brought you home and told me what you had done... Pony your better than that, your smart kiddo. I don't want you turning into some hood running around causing trouble. That's why I let you feel it tonight, Pony. I don't want to loose you honey, and if putting you over my knee is what it'll take, so be it."

He held me tighter to his chest.

"Your the only baby brother I have, and I'm gonna protect you. I love you so much kiddo."

Boy... is that ever a way to tell someone they've screwed up, he really did let me have it tonight. I'm ashamed I let him down like that. I felt fresh tears flood my eyes, as my backside gave a painful throb.

I turned over, noticing Soda was rather teary eyed too.

"I love you too, Soda. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disappoint you. I just had to get outta the house for a bit, I felt like I was trapped being cooped up here all day long." I sniffed, trying to hold the sobs back.

"I know, baby. But that's sort of what happens when your grounded, your not _suppose_ to go out. Have you thought of anything you'd like to do? You've only got two days to go... that is if, Darry doesn't decide to add anymore days to it now." Soda said.

I can't believe he was still willing to take me out, after what I'd done.

"Maybe, we can go to the races or something?" I said, sniffing again. I know Soda likes going to them, there's lots of action at the races.

"Sounds like a plan. I get off early on Wednesday, so make sure your ready to go."

"Ok." I nodded, still turned looking at him.

He turned to look at the clock behind him, then switched off the bedside lamp.

"Turn over kiddo, it's almost 1:30," he said, turning back over and sighing lightly, "good thing I have the late shift tomorrow, I can sleep in a bit."

I turned over and wiped my eyes, then closed them, "Good night, Soda... I really am sorry."

"I know you are kiddo, try get some sleep." He placed a kiss to the back of my head.

And with that we both fell into a deep sleep.

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...

Bella Lilac

A/N - I know some of you mentioned it wasn't Soda's place with handing out this kind of punishment, but rather Darry's. Yes I agree, but I do have my reasons on why I ended up with having Soda dealing with it and not Darry, but I won't go into it on here. Thanks again for all your reviews. Bella.


	12. Unfinished Business

I was glad when Wednesday finally came, I was no longer grounded. Darry didn't add anymore days to it; he figured the tanning I got from Soda taught me good and proper. The last couple of days had been pretty uneventful. I mostly read, watched the day time television and played some poker with the guys.

I yawned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and glanced over at the beside clock behind Soda - 6:18. I was eager to get the day started, now that I was finally free after been confined to the house for a _whole_ week; well... _almost_ a whole week, with _one_ small exception.

I stretched, climbing out of bed; wanting to catch the sunrise. After slipping on a pair of jeans, I grabbed my half empty pack of smokes from my side table, and snuck quietly out the front door, making sure I caught the fly screen before it slammed.

I took a seat on the porch steps, pulling a cigarette from the pack, then lit it up. I looked out into the early morning sky, and drew a deep suck from my smoke, then let my arm drape over my right knee as the lit cigarette dangled between my fingers.

After a few minutes of watching the still silence, and the disappearing trail of smoke from my cigarette; I wasn't expecting the sudden creak from the door behind me, I jumped slightly turning around.

"Hey kiddo, whatcha doin' out here?" Soda asked, followed by a deep yawn that he brought his hand forth to cover.

"Nothin'," was my simple reply, as I watched him move from the doorway, and advice his few steps towards me. He placed himself down on the wooden step beside me with his shoulder so close it was almost rubbing with mine.

"Remember I finish early this afternoon, you still up for going to the races?" He kept his tone soft as it was still early morning, and neighbors were still sleeping; but with him as close as he was, even if he had of whispered I still would have heard him.

"Yeah, I still wanna' go." I said keeping my voice low like he had; then immediately brought my hand up inhaling my smoke again, then blew it out slowly.

"Ok, make sure your ready then when I get home."

The conversation grew quiet, as the first sights of the sun rising began. It didn't take long before the sky was turning bright shades of pinks and reds with vibrant oranges running through it. The fireball of the sky rose higher, making golden rays of light streak through the vibrant sky, it certainly was a breathtaking moment.

"Gosh, that was pretty." Soda said from beside me, I'd forgot he was even there as I was lost in the moment. It amazes me just how people forget just what this world can offer - all Gods beautiful gifts - that just get forgotten. But somehow they are always there, everyday, but people are just too busy to see it. But maybe - just maybe... if you remind people they are there, they just might remember... like Soda.

The warm colours were now fading, bringing out a bright blue sky for the day.

"C'mon, we better get in. Darry'll be wondering where we've ran off to." Soda said, getting up from his seated position, then leaned by the railing waiting for me. I finished off my smoke throwing the butt over the porch railing, then stood following him inside.

Darry already had a plate of eggs and bacon sitting on the table, he looked over at us as we walked into the kitchen.

"You two were up early."

"Yeah... Darry, you should've seen the sky, it was all really pretty. Even Soda said so, didn't you Soda?"

"Yeah kiddo. It sure was something," he said, throwing me a grin.

"See, Darry!?" Darry hadn't ever sat and watched a sunrise, no matter how many times I had asked him to just once. He always said life was too busy, with not enough hours in the day to be starring at the sky.

"Yeah, maybe someday kiddo. Come on breakfast is getting cold, Soda go get ready for work." Darry said, then turned back to finish making his coffee.

I sat down at the table pulling an empty plate towards me, then grabbed an egg from the pile, eating it slowly. Soda came back in dressed, sitting down at the table across from me, he grabbed a plate for himself, and scooped some bacon and eggs onto it.

"So Pony, what are you gonna do today?" Darry asked me, leaning against the kitchen countertop drinking his black coffee.

"Not sure, might go for a walk while I wait for Soda, or something." I answered, grabbing a piece of bacon.

"Ok, but don't you stray too far." He said, eyeing me. "I'm workin' late tonight, gotta fill in for some of the boys down at the warehouse." He told us both, then looked back to me again. "You be good for Soda... I don't wanna come home hearing you've been causing trouble, you hear?" I nodded.

"Don't worry, Dar. Pony ain't gonna cause no trouble, will you kiddo?" Soda said, from across the table as he eyed me.

The problem was; I usually didn't go lookin' for trouble... it was that trouble _always_ seemed to find me. I seemed to be a walking magnet for anything that could remotely get me into any kind of trouble... whether it'd be the Soc's, or own two feet. Trouble was just around the corner... or, so it seems.

I nodded again. _Let's hope I can keep that promise. _

"Good. C'mon Soda, we gotta get to work." Darry said, placing the empty mug that now only held the leftover coffee grains in the sink, and walking across the kitchen towards the front door.

Soda reached across the table and grabbed another piece of bacon off the plate, eating it on the way out.

"See ya later on, Pony!" he said through a mouthful of chewed bacon.

"Bye, Soda." I called after him, hearing the fly screen door slap against the frame after him.

I looked at the remaining eggs and bacon on the plate, and grabbed the roll of glad wrap, covering it. Then slid it in the fridge, figuring Two-Bit or someone will come by later on and eat it. No food hardly ever goes to waste in this house, and by the off chance that it does, it's usually cause it was something no one liked in the first place.

I might as well have my shower now, and not using all the hot water this afternoon when Soda needs one. I walked toward the bathroom closing the door behind me and turned on the shower, undressing. Then relaxed as the hot water rolled down my back and waited till my hair was fully wet through, before massaging some shampoo through it.

I bubbled my body with soap and let the hot water wash it away. I soaked up the spray for a few greedy minutes more, before turning the taps off. Then grabbed my towel from the hook, drying myself off.

I wrapped the navy towel around my waist, and headed for my room. I pulled some jeans and a plain green t-shirt from my drawer, pulling them on. Then retraced my steps back to the bathroom, to grease my hair.

Then headed out the front door in search for something to do.

As I walked, my mind was trying to come up with ideas; I would go to the library, but I'd read all the good books they recently stocked in. Maybe I could see a movie... I always wanted to see that new movie showing -_ How To Kill a Mockingbird_. I bought my ticket, then took a seat on the end back row.

I left the movie house as the end credits rolled, and headed in the direction of the DX. I wanted to see Soda, and was in desperate need of a Pepsi.

As I neared the DX, I could see Soda surrounded by a group of 5 - 6 girls that looked to be around seventeen, same as him. The girls were all giggling and hanging off of Soda.

Soda looked up the same time I walked into the gas station, he gave me a warm smile and signalled for me to come over. I was a little hesitant, with all the girls, but found myself walking to Soda anyway.

"Hey kiddo."

"Hey Soda." I said, a little timidly.

Soda sensed my uneasiness, and placed his arm around my shoulders. "Ladies, this is my little brother, Ponyboy." He said proudly, with a movie star smile beaming on his face.

They all said hi, then giggled. I could feel my cheeks growing warm.

"Oh... his as cute as you, Soda." One girl said, she had really long, golden brown hair wrapped up in a ponytail. I noticed her thick long eye lashes and those baby blue eyes as she looked at me. I have to admit she was kind of cute.

"Yeah, he is... his soo sweet!" Her friend crooned, agreeing. Her silky blond hair hung loosely down her back, almost to her waist, and her piercing blue eyes matching perfectly with her short summer dress.

My cheeks grew warmer. I wasn't really into girls yet. Soda says I'll grow outta it, he did.

"Soda?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"I might go an' grab a Pepsi."

"Yeah, go on. I'll be there in a minute."

I started toward the shop, leaving Soda with the girls; whom I could hear giggling and saying things along the lines of - he was soo cute... how old is he?... did you see him blush, it was adorable - from behind me, that made me blush more, but luckily they couldn't see me now.

I pulled open the fridge door, reaching for a Pepsi bottle. I unscrewed the cap, then almost downed half in one mouthful, letting out a loud belch.

The little bell above the door jingled, as Soda appeared; guess he'd had enough of talking to the girls. He grabbed a Pepsi for himself, popping the cap.

"I knock off in half an hour, then where good to go," he said, taking a swig.

I had just finished my last mouthful of Pepsi, when we heard a car pull up at the pumps. Soda walked out the door to meet whoever had just pulled up.

I poked my head out the door, to see a black Pontiac GTO sitting by the pumps full of Soc's. The car doors opened with three Soc's climbing out, the driver remained in the car.

"Hey Grease."

"What do you Soc's want?" Soda said, walking towards them, "You know we can't have no trouble here."

I strolled out the shop keeping my empty Pepsi bottle with me, and stood to the side, but behind Soda.

"Who says we want trouble? We don't want no trouble, do we fellas?" a tall boy, with dark hair, whom stood to the right said.

"We just need a word with your brother, don't we boys?" a blond headed one said with a smirk, looking right at me.

Soda turned his head to where the boy was looking, noticing me. I took a step forward so I was standing next to Soda, slouching a bit and narrowing my eyes. The Soc's all took a step towards us.

"What do want with my brother? If you have a problem with him, you need to go through me first." Soda narrowed his eyes, looking tough.

"Your brother... and his other Grease friend, are the ones that ruined my car." The dark haired one snarled. I noticed on his right hand, he was wearing rings - they _weren't_ just any rings, they _were_ fighting rings - ready to slice anyone good and proper whom dare come in contact with them.

They all reached into their back pockets, flicking out their switches. I busted the end off my bottle, and held it in a firm but loose grip, in front of me. Soda pulled his blade from his back pocket, holding it out.

Only mere seconds had the blades been pulled - the sun glinting off the silver metal, that had yet to be used - that the Soc behind the wheel beeped his horn, getting impatient. Without anymore warning, the Soc's stuffed their blades back in their pockets, and climbed back in the car; the dark haired one stuck his head out the window, looking directly at me.

"We're not finished with you yet, we'll get you and your Grease friend." He yelled, as they drove out from the pump.

We watched the car as it left, without even bothering to get their gas.

Steve who no doubt saw the whole thing, jogged over to us. "What did those good for nothin' Soc's want?" he asked, eyeing my busted pop bottle.

"It was their car that Pony and Curly trashed," Soda shot me a glare, grabbing the bottle from my grip and throwing it in the trash bin beside the pumps, then turned back to me.

"Pony listen... I don't want you walking on your own, is that understood? You make sure someone's _always_ with you," his tone held authority.

"Alright." I nodded. He was right, those guys could come back at anytime and I _certainly_ _didn't_ want to be on my own when they did.

...

Bella Lilac


	13. As Time Stood Frozen

Soda glanced passed me. "Chris and Gary are here for the next shift, you ready to get outta here Steve?"

"Yeah, I'll fill them in on what needs doing, hold on." Steve said, walking over to them.

"Alright. I'm gonna go sign out, just wait here Pony." Soda said, as he started toward the shop door.

A few minutes passed, as I stood there waiting.

"Where's Soda?" Steve asked, coming out from the garage and started towards his car.

"He said he's signing out." I followed him to his car, climbing into the backseat.

Soda came over to the car and jumped in the passenger seat, as soon as he closed the door Steve sped off.

"So Steve, you still right to drop me an' Pony off?"

"Yeah, it's fine." Steve answered, while watching the road in front.

"Thanks buddy, we'll just walk home after it."

"No probs."

Steve idled the car at our front gate, as we got out. Soda wanted to take a shower before we went out, and Steve said he needed to do the same before he picked up Evie. He told us he'd be back soon, so to be ready.

Not long after twenty minutes, we heard Steve's car fly up our drive, along with a slamming door.

"You guys ready?" He called, poking his head in through the fly screen.

"Yeah. Pony... come on, where leaving." Soda sang out.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'." I mumbled, coming into the lounge. I threw my sneakers back on, then we headed out to Steve's car again.

The guys didn't stop talking the whole way there. Steve putting into _descriptive_ detail of what him and Evie had planned for the night... dinner along with other situations - but I don't think I need to spell it out - you can probably guess.

He was making me sick to my stomach. Normally Soda doesn't let me hear talk like that, not that I hadn't heard it before - I've sat though many of the guys bull sessions, some of Dally's past stories were enough to make just about anyone sick. Both Darry and Soda don't think I am old enough to be listening to that, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I agree with them.

I was starting to think maybe they forgot I was here - I was being awfully quiet. But was glad when the topic changed... with Soda talking about the races instead.

"You excited Pony?" Soda turned in his seat looking over the front seats, showing a huge grin.

"Yeah, should be good." I mumbled from the backseat; still scarred from their previous subject.

"Not should be, will be." He smirked at me.

Steve dropped us off at The Ribbon, then left straight away to go pick up Evie for their date. We arrived early, so for the meantime cars were just cruising up and down the strip, a Mustang with a couple of good lookin' blond girls were coming in the opposite direction. Soda watched as they drove past letting out a long low whistle.

"_Geez_, they were some good lookin' girls if I've ever seen any." He said, with his head still turned, seeing if he could still see 'em.

He turned back to me, "You wanna go grab a bite, before it starts gettin' dark?"

"Yeah, sure."

As we were walking along the strip trying to figure out what we wanted to eat, we past a group of girls hanging out in front a burger joint. I noticed one with long sandy blond hair turn and look at us, she was wearing a very short, yellow sundress. She surprised me when she called out.

"Hey Soda." She said, coming over to us, "Who's the other cute one?" She asked, looking at me.

"Hey doll, this is my little brother, Ponyboy." He said, giving her a famous Sodapop smile.

The other girls seemed to notice us now coming over as well. I guess he must of known them from the DX - Soda _certainly_ attracted the attention of girls like bees to honey. I think they just melted once they saw his movie star looks, along with that smile he gave.

"Hey Soda, wanna go out with me later, maybe we can grab a milkshake?" One asked, placing her hand on Soda's bicep, she had little golden curls running down her back, she wore too much make up, and her baby blue skirt was far too short.

"Sorry doll, can't do, you see I've already made plans for tonight." She gave him a small pout, fluttering her eye lashes.

"C'mon by the DX, maybe we can do a double date with Steve an' Evie." He said, with a grin. She smiled, seeming happy with that plan.

Then she turned to me, "Hi sweetie, what's your name?" She asked in a cute voice.

"Ponyboy." I answered, not sure I wanted to start a conversation.

"Your really cute, you'll look just like your big brother when your older." I wasn't sure if she was referring to Soda or Darry; I figured it was most likely Soda, cause I didn't even know if she knew Darry.

I wasn't sure how to answer that, so I just gave her a nod. I think Soda could tell I was getting a bit uncomfortable.

"You ready to get some food, kiddo?" Soda asked me.

"Yeah," I answered, glad to get away from there.

"Well, it was nice chattin' to you ladies. Maybe you'll can stop by the DX next time." Soda said, slinging his arm over my shoulders.

"Yeah, sure Soda. I'll see ya later," said the sandy blond girl.

Then the rest followed with their goodbyes.

Soda pulled me away, with his arm still around my shoulder. We walked a little further down the strip, heading into another burger joint. We found a booth and sat down.

The waitress come over bringing us some menus, sitting them down on our table.

"Would you boys like something to drink, to start off with?" She asked, with a cute but somewhat flirty smile. Her long silky brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a blue summer dress, inches above her knees, with a frilly white apron covering the front. I noticed she didn't look much older than 15.

"We'll take two Pepsi's, thanks." Soda answered for the both of us, giving her a grin.

She returned his grin, "Ok, I'll be right back with them. Let me know when your ready to order." She said, before heading back to the kitchen.

When she returned with our drinks, we were ready to order. She placed the tall glasses of Pepsi with a straw, on the table in front of us, then took out a little notebook and pencil.

"Pony would like the burger and fries without pickles, and I'll take the burger with the lot and fries." She wrote it down, then headed back to the kitchen.

"She's kinda cute, don't you think, Pony?" Soda said, referring to the waitress.

"I guess so." I answered, sliding my glass towards me and taking a long drink from the straw, accidentally let out a loud belch.

Half the restaurant turned and looked with discussed faces. I glanced over at the waitress and she give a chuckle, making me blush. I turned my eyes down towards the table embarrassed. Soda was however nearly falling off his chair laughing at me.

Nice to know he found my embarrassment amusing.

"Well, that's definitely not the way to get a girl, kiddo." Soda said, still laughing.

The waitress brought our food over to us, giving me a wink as she placed my burger and fries in front of me. I hung my head low, to humiliated to look at her. She leaned over, whispering in my ear, "I found it kinda cute." Then she made her way back into the kitchen.

"What she say?" Soda asked, wanting to know.

"Nothin'." I mumbled, still blushing.

"She likes ya, doesn't she?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

I didn't answer, just concentrated on my burger. After our plates were clean, and glasses empty, we got up to leave. I noticed the waitress walk quickly to the counter, writing something down. She then came over to us, and grabbed my hand shoving something in it, then walked away.

After exiting the restaurant, I opened my hand to see what she'd gave me - a note. I unfolded the small piece of paper.

Call me - Annette, then there was a phone number.

"Told you she likes ya, give her a call little bro." Soda said, looking at the note I held in my hand.

I folded the paper back up, shoving it in my pocket. It was starting to get dark out now. There were now very few cars cruising and most were already starting to park, lined up along both sides of the nature strip, with people gathered around them.

We strolled towards a small group of greasers, I assumed were from the Shepard's gang. They were lean, hard guys, their eyes like pale ice. I'd bet they didn't play fare in a fight... not that I'd _ever_ be stupid enough to mess with them. I know better then to do that.

"Hi Mark." Soda said, walking up to one of the guys.

"Hi Soda." He said, then to me, "Hi kid."

"Hey." I replied.

I heard revving from behind me, turning around I saw eight tough looking cars come down the strip in pairs, they lined up down at the starting line that someone had drawn with chalk. They started revving up their engines to get the crowd pumping with excitement.

A Mustang and a 396 Chevelle were to start the race off, a girl about Soda's age walked out in front and stood between the two cars, she raised her arms in the air then brought them down.

The Mustang screamed off to a start, while the 396 Chevelle spun it's tyres into smoke before it finally took off, but once it took off it was bloody quick it caught up to the Mustang in no time at all.

The crowd was going crazy screaming and waving their arms, then in a flash the cars shot past were we where standing with a loud roar. I felt the wind hit me as they flew past, then zoomed through the finish mark, with the 396 Chevelle winning by a few seconds, the crowd went wild, cheering and running towards them to congratulate the winner.

The drivers climbed back in their cars to remove them off the track, to make way for the next race.

Next up was a Chevrolet Camaro and Pontiac GTO, they revved up their engines with a grumble, the girl walked out again raising her arms then dropping them. Both cars took off fast with a squeal of their tyres, they flew down the track past us with a loud growl throwing the wind at me again, then flew through the finish line with the Camaro just beating the Pontiac. The crowd cheered again.

I turned to look at Soda, he was talking to some guy next to him about the race.

"Soda?"

He paused his conversation midway through, looking at me. "Yeah, kiddo?" He asked.

"I'm gonna take a walk, I should be back before the next race starts."

"Alright, don't go too far and be back soon." He said, with a stern look.

I strolled back down the strip the same way we had come.

I could hear a fight with punches being thrown coming from somewhere near by. I stopped to look around, then noticed three guys in the ally way beside me - one against two; the guy on his own was holding up not too bad. I wasn't about to get involved... Soda would kill me.

I continued walking, while kicking a pop bottle along the street. I looked back realising I had wandered along way from where the street racing was.

I stopped in my tracks, looking around me; the sky was now a deep dark nightly black, not a lot of cars cruising down this part of the strip at this time. I'd had to at least walked a good half hour. If any Soc's happened to drive by me now, I'd be an easy target to jump, wandering on my lonesome at this time at night.

I gave the pop bottle a swift kick and watched as it skidded across the pavement, before bouncing off the edge of the gutter and spinning to a stop on the side of the road. I hurriedly spun on my feet turning back the way I'd just come, making fast tracks back towards the races.

What's Soda gonna say... he's gonna be awful mad I took off for as long as I did.

It was eerie quiet. The only sounds being the fast paced slapping from my runners on the pavement. I could now make out the line of headlights; before the races had begun they'd parked a row of cars along the strip - as the night set in - the headlights were turned on, they lite up the nights sky like a luminous fireball.

As I was nearing where the races took place; I noticed people were no longer standing on the sidelines, but instead now gathered in a rather large crowd.

I took off in a fast sprint towards the mass of people - some were screaming, some cheering, and some were shoving through the throng, and getting away as fast as they could in the opposite direction.

I ran as fast as I could up to the crowd, grabbing for the first person that came into my sight. "What's going on?" I yelled over the screaming noise.

"Haven't you heard," the guy yelled, turning to face me, "one of the boys got caught out slashing his opponents tyres, now there's a brawl out." I knew he was one of the Shepard's boys, he had that tough as nails look. I was silently thankful he hadn't swung around landing a punch at me instead.

"Thanks." I said, then took off running around the mass of people, seeing if I could find Soda. It was useless there were hundreds of people.

"Soda." I yelled, hoping he might somehow hear me.

"Soda." I called again.

I started shoving through the crowd, in hopes that I might find him.

"Hey, watch it kid!" Someone yelled at me, as I pushed past them.

As I was making my way through, someone accidentally jabbed me in my ribs with their elbow, causing me to yelp. I eventually pushed my way through to the front - my blood turning cold, at the sight in front of me.

Two guys were going at each other with knives - not switch blades - black handled knives; pointed with a slight curve to the top, and jagged. Another guy lay on the ground not even two foot in front of me, unmoving, with blood spilling out from under him, making a small pool of red. Another held a chain, as his opponent took a swing at him with a piece of pipe.

_Shit_... this is not something I need to get in the middle of. As I turned around needing to get back through the mass of people, I heard someone shouting.

"No, no wait, we can sort this out."

I turned back to see the guy that had held the pipe, was now holding a loaded heater, with it pointed right at the guy holding the chain. I couldn't tell if he was still holding the chain or not, as he was standing almost directly in front of me.

I could tell people were now moving away from the crowd, but I didn't move. I kept my eyes firmly placed on that gun, that was being held pointed my way... except it _hadn't_ been loaded for me.

"Please, don't shoot." He begged.

"Shut up." The gunman yelled.

There was a sudden gunshot... but it hadn't come from the shooters gun. Another shot was fired - it was coming from somewhere nearby. Then everything stood deathly quiet - almost like time had stopped - but within a split second, time unfroze and people now scattered, running scared, trying to get away.

As the shots rang out, it... for a split second, distracted the person holding the gun. The other guy tried to make an escape, but he wasn't quick enough. The gun was aimed, and fired - putting a bullet right through his chest, a second shot was fired as the body collapsed towards the ground, missing it's target - but not completely...

...

Bella Lilac

A/N - Thank you everyone that is following this story, and for all your lovely reviews. Bella.


	14. Numbness Before the Storm

I've never in my fourteen years, experienced anything that could compare to this. The sickly-sweet smell of burnt flesh - being ripped, as the bullet passed though... but held no pain - only numbness; the smell of burnt gun powder lingering in the air.

The feeling of warm blood as it gushed down my upper arm, just below my shoulder, where the bullet had made it's fleeting exit.

I brought my left hand to the wound, gripping tightly, and feeling slightly light headed. I felt a rough pair of hands grab me from behind, dragging me from the scene I had just witnessed.

That boy... that'd been shot, hadn't been much older than 17. His life suddenly cut short, as he lay crumpled on the ground dying - maybe even dead already. All over some stupid disagreement.

I turned my head seeing who'd grabbed me, and was taken aback - Tim Shepard.

"You try'na get killed, kid?" He scolded, angrily.

The sound of sirens filled the air in the distance; making their way toward where the guns had been fired, a shooting had taken place, where a boys life has ended, and a stabbing claimed another... that's where those sirens were headed.

"_Shit_, get outta here kid... the fuzz are on their way." Tim said, shoving me in the opposite direction, from the growing sound.

I turned back, calling to Tim.

"Yeah, kid?" his gruff voice answered.

"You haven't seen Soda, have you?"

"Talked to him before, but not since... sorry kid."

"That's ok, thanks Tim."

I didn't wait another second. I took off at a fast run back down the strip, and turned the first corner that came in view and didn't stop... not until I knew I was completely out of sight from the cops.

I finally came to a stop, leaning up against an old brick wall. With my left hand gripping firmly over the bullet wound, as the thick blood seeped through my fingers and covered my palm; as I worked to catch my breath.

"Hey, Curtis!" I heard someone call out.

I looked up to see Curly coming down the sidewalk, taking a drink from a beer can.

"Hey Curly, what's up man?" I asked, once he reached me.

"Nothin', what ya doin' this side a town... ya look like your been runnin' from the fuzz, or somethin'." He said, taking another swig from his can.

I laughed. "You ain't wrong there, Curly."

"Shit, what happen' to you man?" He asked, just noticing my blood covered arm.

"Had a run'in with a gun." I said, as I pushed away from the wall, and removed my now deep red, thickly covered hand from my upper arm, and wiping it the best I could off on the thigh of my jeans, leaving behind a crimson trail. Then reached into my back pocket pulling out a pack of kools. I pulled out a stick lighting up, then offered Curly.

He took one and lite it, then asked. "How'd ya do that?"

I took a deep puff from my cigarette, before answering. "At the drags, some guy slashed another guys tyres to put him outta the race, a brawl broke out with some guy pullin' a heater, shot some guy an' hit me."

"Damn, I shoulda' been there." Curly said, placing a foot behind him onto the brick wall and leaning back, blowing out cigarette smoke. If there's any kinda action happening or a fight going down, Curly _hates_ to miss it... if it's illegal, _he'll_ be there.

I exhaled the smoke, and breathed out a, "_Yeah_." Before talking another drag on my cigarette.

He leaned off the wall, and finished what was left of his beer, then tossed the can to the footpath - it clanged as it hit the pavement, and rolled landing into the gutter.

"C'mon, let's go to Bucks." Curly said, starting down the sidewalk.

"Nah, I'm gonna find Soda." I said, throwing my cigarette butt away.

"Suit yourself Curtis. But you know, you _could_ just call your house from Bucks."

For once in Curly's life, he actually had a good idea. Soda might be home and he could come pick me up, and if Soda's not home someone else could be there and they could let him know where I am. I ran to catch up with Curly. "Since when did you start getting so smart, Curly?" I smirked, then laughed.

He punched me in my uninjured arm. "Since I started hangin' round brains like you. C'mon lets go."

It was just a short stroll to Bucks place. I gripped my arm, tightly, as drops of blood speckled the side walk. We could already hear the cheap music before we even reached the door. Curly gave a knock before Buck answered, a weed held in one hand.

"Whatta ya kids want?"

"Some booze, and Curtis needs the phone." Curly said.

He glared at us. "Get in," he said, holding the door open, but stopped me.

"Your bleeding all over the place kid, what happen'?"

"I got shot, I need to talk to Soda?"

My focus was starting to waver, everything was slowing spinning around me, like a slow merry-go-round ride; maybe it was from all the blood I'd lost.

"It better be nothin' illegal, I don't want no cops comin' round 'er."

"Nah, ain't nothin' like that."

He gave me a hard stare. "C'mon."

Walking into Bucks was like walking into some down town bar. There were people sitting and standing around drinking beer, loud roaring of laughter, a heated game of pool was being played by the far wall, girls high pitched giggles with their low cut tops, and Hank Williams.

"Phones over there, kid." Buck pointed over to a small lamp table by the wall.

I picked up the phone pressing in the numbers for our house, letting it ring. Someone picked up on the third ring.

_"Hello, Curtis residence." _Two-Bit answered.

"Two-Bit, is Soda there?"

_"Hey kid, his not here... his out lookin' for you. Where are you?"_

"Bucks."

_"What you doin' there kid?"_

"Long story, listen I need Soda to come pick me up."

At that moment, the room suddenly felt a lot colder; like a couple degrees had dropped off the temperature.

"C-can you tell him, Two-Bit?"

_"Yeah ok, hang tight kid, I'll go see if...hold on - hold on, he just walked through the door."_

_"Sodapop... Pony's on the phone."_ I heard him holler to Soda.

I heard some loud-hurried scuffling, then Soda was on the phone.

_"Hey Ponyboy, where are you? Are you alright? I've been lookin'..."_

"Soda." I cut him off, and he stopped talking to listen. "S-soda I'm at Bucks, listen... I need you to come get me." I shivered.

_"Whatta ya doin' there Ponyboy, is everything alright?"_

"I've been shot."

_"You've been what."_ He yelled down the phone.

"I-i'm cold S-soda." I whined, shivering.

_"Ok... ok listen baby, stay put. I'm comin' to get you."_

"Ok Soda," my reply almost a whisper, before hanging up the phone. Then walked over to Curly.

"Is he comin'?" Curly asked, taking a mouthful of beer.

"Y-yeah, he'll be here soon." I answered, wishing the spinning would stop. It was hard to focus - and I really was feeling light headed.

"Curtis, you ok? You don't look so good, man."

"Y-yeah, I'll be fine," I said, but my voice told otherwise. I took a seat on the old leather lounge, occupying the second cushion, leaning my head into the backrest.

Curly glanced at me skeptically, shaking his head.

I never knew the feeling of getting shot, and if someone had of asked me - I never in a day, would of imagined it like this. I would have answered - it'd hurt like hell; but I knew it was only the adrenaline taking over, causing the numbness. I was sure that once it wore off... I'll be in a world of pain.

I closed my eyes feeling sleepy, and felt the couch shift - with Curly getting up. I wasn't sure where he was going... as long as I didn't have to get up, I didn't care.

A minute later someone nudged me, roughly. I wearily opened my eyes, and looked up to see Buck's tall frame standing in front of me. He popped the cap off a Pepsi, handing it to me. I took it gratefully; my throat was really parched, and I hoped it'd help with my spinning head.

I noticed a tea towel slung over his right arm, he grabbed at it and tossed it, landing it in my lap. I blinked at it, baffled, then returned him with a blank stare - wondering what it was for; sure I was cold... but it wasn't _nearly_ big enough to cover me.

He gave me a look. I'm sure he though I was just that thick; but I wasn't in the right headspace, to be thinking logically.

"It's for you arm, kid... your bleeding all over the couch." I turned my head, looking to the couch behind my arm, and sure enough, the cream leather had a deep patch of smeared red.

"Gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't mea-" I started, but he cut me off.

"Don't worry bout it, this old things been through worse." he said, patting the sofa arm. I grasped the towel, and pressed it firmly over my arm, as Buck left to attend the bar again.

I didn't have to wait anymore than five minutes for Soda to arrive. By the time I was done drinking the Pepsi Buck had given me he was almost here. He came in almost knocking the door from it's hinges, and practically ran to where I was sitting, grabbing me into his arms in a tight hug.

Then I scolded myself for telling him over the phone, he probably ran every red light and stop sign on the way here. No doubt probably thinking I was gonna be laying here half dead or something, not sitting up on the couch waiting for him.

He suddenly pulled back, looking me over, with his eyes stopping on my right arm. I silently watched him as he gently took a hold of it, removing the tea towel and inspecting the bloodied mess. The bleeding looked like it had slowed down some, now that I had applied proper direct pressure to it.

"How'd that happen, kiddo?" he asked, his eyes solely focused on my arm.

"Some guy pulled a gun at the races, after that guy slashed the tyres."

His eyes left my arm, with him turning his head looking right at me. "Yeah, I saw... but that was after you left."

"I came back lookin' for you."

"Aw, kiddo. I hunted for you, an' asked around but no one said they had seen you."

"Tim Shepard seen me."

"Whatta mean?" He asked, looking confused.

"He got me away from the guy that had the gun, he probably would have shot me again otherwise." I said, quietly, feeling another shiver pass through me.

"I'm so sorry, honey." Soda said, with a pained expression.

"I-it's not your fault, Soda." I swallowed, hard, shivering again.

He sighed, "C'mon... lets get you home."

Soda helped me up, but before we left he called over to Curly.

"Yeah?" Curly called, he was now playing a game of pool, betting with money. I must admit he was a good player, beat me in most the rounds we had when playing for fun. But these guys weren't playing for fun, these were serious players, and didn't mess around.

"Tell your brother thanks from me." Soda called, before we headed out.

We walked out the front to where Two-Bit's car was parked by the curb, Soda must have borrowed it seeing as Darry had the truck and was still at work. He unlocked the passenger side door for me to get in.

I leaned back against the seat, cradling my injured arm with my left hand and shut my eyes. It was even colder in the car, I wondered briefly why Soda hadn't put the heating up.

"S-soda?" I opened my eyes, turning my head slightly to look at him.

"Yeah, honey?" he answered, as he watched the road.

"C-can... can you put the heating up, it's cold."

I saw him give me a quick glance, from the corner of his eye. "It's not that cold out, Pony." I took note of him still in his old navy, short sleeved, over shirt that hung loosely unbuttoned over a white t-shirt, that he'd been wearing that night at the races, and wondered how he couldn't feel the cold. I had that many shivers running through me, I would have believed anyone if they'd had said it was snowing out.

"Well... I-i'm cold." I said, as another chill ran through me.

He reached over with one hand, feeling my forehead. I could see he swore under his breath, before returning his hand to the steering wheel, gripping hard.

"Soda?" I asked, slightly concerned by his reaction.

"Your warm, Pony." I stared at him, blankly. Hadn't I just told him two seconds ago that I'm cold... and he goes and says I'm warm. Did he not hear me?

He noticed my stare. "It means you have a fever, honey." But I could tell there was more he _wanted_ to say - like unsaid words, he was thinking - but _didn't_ want to say out loud.

I didn't drop my stare - but rather more trying to work out what he'd meant. I knew a fever wasn't good, but what made him react like that. Then it clicked - I got a fever _after_ being shot... and that could only mean _one_ thing - possible infection.

I groaned, turning my head back and closed my eyes again. Trust me and this situation to turn for the worst - well it hadn't exactly turned for the worst, yet - but knowing me and my luck, well let's just say it doesn't come to me often. Not saying my current situation isn't already - in most opinions, bad - and that's putting it mildly, but an infection to top that off would be like shooting a man when his already down, and that's worst than bad.

I had almost fallen asleep, before the most excruciating, truly agonising experience of pain hit me, it went right though my body. I broke the silence, crying out in pain, and clutched my arm tightly. I felt the car slightly swerve to the right, before straightening again - I guess my sudden scream scared Soda.

...

Bella Lilac


	15. Flames Burn Rapidly

I moaned, loudly. My arm felt like it had been lit on fire; so this is what being shot felt like after the adrenaline rush... well, I was right about it hurting like hell...

My breathing was getting increasingly heavier. I can't believe how much pain was going through me. I gripped my arm even tighter, almost doubling over in my seat.

"S-soda...?" I wailed, loudly.

"It's ok, baby... I'm right here," he tried to soothe me, but I knew it was loosing hope this time... I don't think anything could soothe this pain.

"Soda... it hurts." I cried, feeling hot tears.

"I know, honey... listen, where almost home. I need you to try and stay calm, ok?"

As we turned onto our street he pressed harder on the accelerator, throwing us back in our seats. Then swerved the car up our drive, almost overshooting it, and putting it in park. He threw open his door, coming round my side.

"Com'er baby," he said, unbuckling me. "Put your arms round my neck. I'm gonna carry you in." He lifted me out the car, and kicked the door shut.

He carried me straight to our room, placing me on the bed. Everything around me was happening like a blur, I was in so much pain I couldn't see straight. He pulled my shoes off, and helped me out of my clothes into my pyjama bottoms. Then left the room.

I hadn't seen any sign of Two-Bit, my guess is that he'd left - most likely to give us some space and wait till tomorrow to pick up his car... us boys are all like that; if someone needs something, the other person'll do it no questions asked. It's much like that saying goes, "What's yours is mine, what's mine is ours." Yep, something like that, either way nothing goes unshared around 'er.

I glanced at the bedside clock, 11:36. Darry still won't be home for at least another half hour.

Soda came back in with the first aid, an ice pack, and an old ice cream tub of soapy water. He set them down, then took a seat on the edge of the bed beside me, as I continued to lay on my side, facing Soda.

I watched him search through the clear tub, that held the first aid supplies - producing a small glass bottle with clear liquid. I didn't recognise the medicine, as any I'd taken before. I shifted slightly, trying to see the labelling: Clindamycin - the name didn't sound familiar, then it clicked.

A couple months back, Darry's boss had taken on a contract where they were required to replace the existing shingles with sheet metal roofing. Somewhere during the job, Darry had sliced himself good, leaving a gaping wound in his palm. I remember the doctor prescribing him with medication to stop infections, and that him and Soda had disappeared to the bathroom, keeping it mostly hush from me.

Constant chills ran through me. They were gradually growing worse, sending a violent wave around my body every few seconds.

"S-soda..." I cried, not sure I can handle the pain too much longer.

"It's alright, baby," he soothed, as he sat the bottle on the bedside. He pulled a white cloth from the first aid, dunking it in the soapy water, and started on washing the blood away from down my arm and around the wound, but leaving the wound itself alone for the moment. I found his free hand, and gripped it with my bloody one, as I watched the blood magically disappear from my arm.

He disposed of the bloody rag, landing it in the waste basket. Then shuffled a little closer to me, as he pulled me towards him, letting me rest my head in his lap - facing him. I curled up, resting my hands just below my chin.

"I need you to close your eyes for me, baby." I glanced up at him, with a questioning look.

"Do you trust me?" he asked gently.

I didn't pause a second, before nodding. If there's _anyone_ I trust _more_ than anything... it's Soda.

I saw just a tiny hint of smile creep onto his face - maybe for reassurance. "Ok, baby... close your eyes."

I did, feeling slightly nervous as to what he was about to do. I wasn't sure what it was, but if it'd take the pain away... I didn't care.

I felt him shifting, and heard the clink of the glass bottle, that'd been on the beside. Then there was a crinkle of thin plastic, with the seal being pulled open. I couldn't fully make out the next sound... it was faint, but sounded like something sucking, or filling - something sucking water, maybe?

Then the coldness of the ice was felt on my upper arm, he held it, numbing the area. It was cold... but felt good, soothing almost. He removed the ice, and rubbed something lightly around on a spot at the top of my arm, then I felt his hand clamp down at the top of my elbow, holding firmly.

"S-soda...?"

"It's alright baby, your doin' really good," he encouraged, then added. "What did you think about those cars tonight, they sure were tough, huh?"

Sure the cars were tough, and if it were any other night in another situation, I'd have been glad to talk about the night and how tough the cars were. But tonight in this situation I didn't even wanna think about the cars, or the races. It'd only flood back unwanted memories of what only happened so few hours earlier. As I was thinking my mind started racing, picturing the black handled pistol, as the latch clicked, unloading the sleek gilding lead, as it passed through... _don't think_... don't think about how young he was, the blood spewing from his chest as he lay there dying... _don't think_... _don't think_... if he had been a better shot, I may not have been so lucky...

I swallowed hard, and nodded.

"What would your pick be outta 'em, kiddo?"

_Don't think..._

"Umm..." I started to answer, then winced, as a sudden but painful jab entered my arm, almost like being pinched. The feeling all _too_ familiar... he knows how afraid I get. I think he was smart, not showing me. But even so, it hurt...

"Shh... it's alright, just relax... which one, Pony?" he asked, trying to district me.

"Umm... I d-don't know...the C-chevelle," I winced again, with tears filling my eyes, and grabbed a fist full of the front of his shirt, gripping it tightly in my left hand, "a-and Mustang." I answered, unable to help the quiver in my voice, as he pushed the needle all the way in - the medicine burning as it filled my arm.

"S-soda..."

"Shh... I gotcha, Pony... I'm right here." He gave a soft sigh, before lightly adding. "They sure are tough cars, aren't they... tough and fast."

I nodded, not wanting to think any more of the race; but also not wanting to think about the shot, or him pulling it out. He lightly brushed my hair back gently, as he held a cloth to the spot - for the blood, then massaged the medicine into my arm. I left my eyes closed, it was probably better if I didn't see anyways.

Something was then dipped into the bucket of water, then rung out - with the sound of water hitting water - a washcloth.

He pressed the soaked cloth to the bullet wound, irritating it - causing the burning to increase. I cried out, opening my eyes, and tried to pull away - unsuccessfully, as Soda still had a firm hold on me. "Shh, Pony..." Soda soothed quietly, as he repeatedly dipped the cloth into the soapy water, washing out the wound.

"Your doin' good, kiddo... your doin' real good." Soda tried to encourage, as I was caught up in his grip, and had to endure the pain with no means of escape.

I glanced at my arm. The bullet had made good impact; a huge chunk of flesh had been ripped from my arm - almost 2 inches long, and was deep, and red - it looked almost sickly.

"You know... your pretty lucky, Pony. It could have been a whole lot worse." Soda said, inspecting the damage. He was right, and I knew that... the same thought had crossed my mind a time or two. The bullet could have as easily imbedded my chest, stomach, or a main artery having me bled out within minutes.

I remember long ago as Johnny and I would sit out by the lot and stare at the dark lone night sky, as the millions of stars twinkled overhead much like a diamond catching the glint of the sun and throwing off its dazzling gleam. We'd lay our heads back on the Ol' bench seat, mesmerised, I'd point out the constellations to Johnny like I did most times we sat out there, and he'd take them in in wonderment as I pointed towards the sky. But I remember how Johnny once asked, he stared up at the sky and said, "Do you think there must be angels up there watching out for us?"

And I'd look over at him, then glance up at the sky, "Well sure, my moms up there. Maybe she's an angel?"

"Golly, I'm sure she is, Ponyboy. I'm sure she's watching over us right now." And that ended the conversation with us both gazing up at the sky. But now I think about it, I'm sure he's right as someone had to have been looking out for me today, as like Soda said - it could have been a whole lot worse.

Soda reached around into the first aid, producing the bottle of alcohol - I knew this was _gonna_ hurt, and I had nowhere to go. Soda held my arm in a vice-like grip, to keep me from moving.

"Baby, I'm not gonna lie...this _will_ hurt, but I need you to try keep still."

Without further warning he tipped the bottle up, pouring the liquid into the gash - it burned like no other. I writhed and shook in his grip, as I screamed bloody murder.

It ran down my arm, like liquid hot ash... but rather then putting out the flames, the flames burned rapidly, and painfully. I wasn't sure how much more I could handle.

He turned the bottle back up, stopping the flowing alcohol. Involuntary harsh tremors overtook my body, as I lay there panting heavily - soft tears pooled up in my eyes, and rolled slowly off my cheek into the denim of Soda's jeans.

Soda's hand softly caressed my sweaty forehead, as he carefully brushed the damp hair back. "I know it hurts, baby... I know. But it's almost done, honey... it's almost over."

He continued to gently stroke my hair, until my breathing calmed to almost normal. Then he tipped the bottle back up, filling the wound once again with the burning liquid.

"Soda..." I sobbed out, I wanted to tell him no more. "Soda..." I couldn't get the words out. I thrashed around so much, the wound opened, causing it to bleed again.

I suddenly bolted upright, feeling my stomach take on a violent turn.

"Soda..." I gasped.

Everything happened in a fast blur - Soda pushed the waste basket against my chest, as the bile quickly rose in my throat, and everything I had in my stomach came rushing out.

I pulled away from the bin and choked out a loud sob. As tears rolled thick and fast down my face, and I trembled.

"Shh, it's alright, baby... It's ok." Soda reassured, as he rubbed my back.

I felt my face grow even paler as another wave of nausea hit. I found myself back over the bucket, bringing up more vomit. Even after my stomach felt empty, I continued to dry heave, as the acid burned at the back of my throat.

After my breathing returned to normal. I let myself collapse back against Soda feeling drained - the exhaustion and pain all too much. It just all became _too_ overwhelming and I couldn't take anymore, and I just broke... as deep, loud sobs erupted from within me and shook my entire body.

"Shh, it's ok. I'm here," he hushed, trying to soothe me. "It's ok... Soda's here."

Soda held me close to his chest, with his arm around me. Turning slightly, he found a clean washcloth in the first aid and wet it using the leftover soapy water, then wiped away the freshly seeped blood, that was slowly making its path down my arm again.

Soda held me tighter to him, rocking me gently - as he pressed the cloth to my wound, and held it there. He whispered soothing things in my ear, rubbed my back, and stroked my hair - as I cried and cried.

Gradually my sobs became gentler and quieter - feeling too mentally and physically exhausted and tired to cry anymore. I relaxed against Soda, feeling warm in his strong embrace, and closed my eyes - falling asleep in his arms.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

...

Bella Lilac

A/N - I wish everyone a safe and happy new year, and all the best for 2016. Bella.


	16. Just Like Tiny Dancers

A couple days had passed since the gun shooting. The wound from the bullet was healing fine, with no sign of infection - thanks to Soda. After he'd stopped the bleeding, he had stitched the wound closed; then re-dressed it and applied antiseptic cream morning and night, and told me to keep the area dry.

When I woke, the bright sun was shining through my blinds. I could feel a headache coming on, with a slight throbbing already to the front of my head. I grabbed my jeans from the floor, from yesterday and shrugged them on.

Then opened the top drawer to my bedside, pulling out the half full bottle of aspirin. I always kept an extra stash in there for when I needed them. I shook some from the bottle into my hand, and tipped them into my mouth - without looking at how many, swallowed them dry. Then made my way out into the kitchen.

The house was quiet, with nobody else here. Both my brothers had left early this morning for work. I opened the door to the fridge, looking at all the contents - unable to decide, then settled for a can of Pepsi. _Darry surely would go ballistic if he saw me drinking this first thing in the morning_, I thought.

I popped the tab on the can, taking a mouthful - but then... what he doesn't know won't kill him.

I glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall, it was already quarter to eleven. I headed back to my room, throwing on a clean t-shirt and stuffed my cigarette pack in my back pocket. Then retraced my steps back through the house, but heading for the front door this time - as I started for the porch steps, I heard the screen door slam from behind me.

I strolled along the footpath, drinking my Pepsi - not having much to do, or go. _I could go see Soda_, I thought - sometimes when their not too busy, he'll let me help with the car their working on. I wasn't much good with cars like Soda or Steve... but I liked helping Soda, and he didn't mind my being there.

I turned the next corner, heading in the direction of the DX. I slowed my pace a little, and reached to my back pocket, for my cigarettes - and lit up. I took a long drag of my smoke, letting the nicotine fill my lungs, then downed the last mouthful of my Pepsi.

I was almost a block from the DX, when I heard a car speed up from the road behind me. I noticed, as the grumbling of the engine grew closer, the car slowed to a sudden crawl - almost idling - as they slowly trailed me. I felt my back pocket, reassuring me my blade was there. I glanced over my left shoulder, to see the same car that had pulled into the DX station the other day.

_Shit._

I wondered vaguely, if maybe I could out run them. The idea sounding good in my head... but in all reality - a cars always faster. They pulled up beside me and cut the engine, with three Soc's getting out. They started towards me. I backed up away from them; but without much effort they had me surrounded - making no escape.

I looked them over, sizing them up, and knew the fight was over before it had even began. I'm not saying I'm not a good fighter, or nothin'. Darry says I'm a real good fighter for my age. But three against one just ain't fair, and these guys had to be at least 16, or 17, and a lot bigger than me.

"What do you want?" I asked, sounding braver than I felt.

"We want payback, for the damage you caused to my car." I looked to the dark haired boy, whose car Curly and I had slashed. There was no forgiveness in his features, whatsoever.

To say I was scared - is an understatement - my palms were clammy, and my heart pounded, heavily. I get like that when I get real scared. I wasn't sure what they had in mind, and I didn't want to find out, either - but it didn't look like I had much say.

Curly and his stupid ideas. Why I hang with him sometimes, I don't know - and yet I have to now deal with the aftermath.

From my right, the blond headed Soc took a step towards me - I backed away, as the other Soc to my left grabbed me roughly by the arm. I pulled, and struggled against him, trying to break his hold on me - I had almost freed myself, before one landed a hard punch to my right cheek. I didn't have time to recover before the next punch was thrown, hitting my jaw.

I looked up to see his fist coming at me again - blocking it, I threw my own fist to the Soc's stomach, making him double over.

I received another hard punch, to my own gut - knocking the wind right outta me. As I was doubled over trying to catch my breath, it gave them an advantage - one of them throwing painful punches to my ribs, as the Soc who held me tightened his grip. Suddenly he let go, forcefully shoving me forwards. I straightened up, noticing they were reaching for their back pockets.

I pulled out my blade, holding it in a firm but loose grip. Dally had shown me a couple months back, before he died - he taught me to, always hold the blade outwards and away from you, but never grip too tight.

"Let's teach the kid, not to mess with other people's property. Whatta you say Dave?" the dark haired one snarled. He held his blade pointed out, towards me - the silver metal glittered in the sun, as the light danced from its polished surface, like tiny dancers taken to stage.

"Yeah, I think the kid needs to be taught a lesson."

I gulped, hard - trying to stay tough; which wasn't an easy feat, with three blades being pointed at you.

"We'll slice him good, like he did the tyres," the other one said, stepping towards me. I backed away, as he took a swing at me - missing me by a bare inch. But as I was focused on avoiding his blade, I didn't see the Soc to my left move forward - slashing me across my upper arm - leaving about a 3 inch long gash.

I wildly swung my blade in his direction, nicking his hand as he was pulling away. He immediately clutched at his hand, swearing.

Before I noticed - a fist connect with my right cheek again, knocking me back. The Soc to my right grabbed me roughly - with the tips of his fingers digging into the flesh of my upper arm, as someone sliced their blade down the side of my left cheek - it all happened in a matter of seconds.

Then they left me - standing in the middle of the street in a daze, trying to figure out what'd just happened. Their car sped off down the road.

I could taste metallic in my mouth, and wondered vaguely if they'd sliced all the way through. I could already feel blood seeping from the gash, and it stung something awful. I brought my hand up to my cheek - wiping, my palm came back smeared with thick red, blood.

The gash to my arm, just as painful as my cheek - was bleeding heavily, with blood trailing right down to my wrist. I felt sore all over, and slightly dizzy. The punches I received to my face didn't help matters, either.

_Well... I have to go see Soda now_, I thought. Turning back in the direction to the DX, I continued down the sidewalk in a slow but steady pace, holding my right hand firmly over the gash and willed myself not to pass out before I got there.

Every step was painful... with my vision wavering in and out of focus, as tiny dots of red coloured the pavement. The sign for the DX had now come into view, and I fastened up my pace a little.

Steve spotted me first, he was over by the shed looking frustrated, as he peered beneath the hood of a car he was working on - as soon as I walked in, he looked up. Collecting up the already stained rag, that had been draped over the cars front end - he left the shed in a jog, whilst wiping the grease from his hands.

"Soda!" Steve called loudly, as he passed the shop front.

I staggered towards the pumps as Soda dashed towards the open doorway; at first he looked unsure as to why Steve had called him, but seeing Steve's hurry - worry edged his expression. I watched as his eyes moved past Steve to me - in the split second before he took off in a sprint - I could see the fear.

Steve reached me first, he teared his eyes over my wounded flesh, as one would an injured soldier. "You wanna tell me what the hell happened, kid?"

But I didn't have time to answer, before Soda had me caught up in his arms, pressing me against his chest. I leaned into him, smelling the familiar scent of grease and gas, as he held me tight.

Though the comfort didn't last long, as I felt a hand pressing against my bloody wound. I jerked my arm away from the touch, with a hiss, leaning back from Soda's embrace. Steve carefully took a step back, as he held the partially greased rag in his grip, that now sported a crimson stain.

"We need to stop the bleeding, kid." He stated, guiding the rag towards my wound again.

I hastily stepped from his reach, and out of Soda's hold. Only noticing the smeared blood, soaking into the azure material beneath the collar of Soda's loosely thrown on DX shirt, and knew immediately it had come from my bleeding cheek.

"It's ok, Ponyboy." I wasn't quite sure if he was referring to the shirt, or this situation. If it was directed towards the situation, I knew it was anything but ok.

Soda took an easy step towards me, drawing me tightly against him again. "Steve's right, Pony. We need to get you cleaned up." He gently guided me away from him, keeping an arm across my shoulders, as he led me towards the shop front with Steve trailing closely.

As we reached the back office, he pulled a black padded arm chair from a wooden table, gesturing for me to sit. I watched as he pulled an old metal box - that looked like it'd seen its fair share of injuries; the lid was sporting a rather large dint, with rust forming in various parts - from between a side cabinet and wall.

He placed the large receptacle on the wooden table, opening its lid, as the hinges protested a tired creak. I watched as he searched through the first aid supplies, producing a bottle of alcohol and a semi stained grey cloth. He pulled over another chair, setting it to face me, then sat down.

Steve hadn't moved, as he remained leaning against the doorframe - arms crossed protectively over his broad chest.

"You still never told us who it was, kid." He stated from his position.

I turned slightly in my chair, facing him. Before silently turning away, staring at my hands that lay in my lap. Soda placed a gentle hand to my knee, causing me to glance up.

"It was those Soc's, wasn't it?"

I reluctantly nodded, silently. "But Soda... I don't want you going after them. I don't want you getting hurt, too. Please promise me, Soda." I begged him. I couldn't bare it if he got hurt, or any of the other guys, cause of something stupid I did.

"It's alright, kiddo. Don't you worry 'bout that none," he reassured, as he poured more then necessary amounts of alcohol into the cloth, then took a gentle hold to my chin, to disinfect the gash.

I immediately pulled back with a yelp, at the sudden intense burning; with such force, almost sending myself and the chair flying backwards. My hand instinctively flew out grabbing hold of the first thing to come in contact - which happened to be Soda's arm - and held on, as the chair righted itself.

"Soda..." I whined.

"Shh, it's ok, baby... it's ok," he soothed, trying to reassure me. "I need you to try stay still for me, ok honey?"

"B-but it hurts, Soda." I complained, still attached to his arm.

"I know, kiddo. But you need to let me clean you up." He spoke gently.

I nodded, reluctantly, as I released my grip on him. He carefully took my chin again, dabbing my cheek with the cloth. I closed my eyes, tightly - trying to bare the pain, but couldn't help pull away again.

"Soda..." I whined again, "No more."

I felt a pair of solid hands come to rest on my shoulders - holding me firmly in place - opening my eyes I tilted my head up, to see Steve.

"Quit your movin', kid," his harsh tone, scolded.

I immediately dropped my eyes to my lap, pouting.

Soda sighed, reaching forwards to rest a warm hand, to the back of my clammy one - that rested to the top of my thigh - and lightly massaged it with his thumb, before tightly grasping my hand, in his.

I glanced up, meeting his gentle dark chocolate eyes.

"It's ok, baby... just relax," he soothed, giving my hand a comforting squeeze. I winced, as he applied pressure again to the fresh gash on my cheek, and clutched his hand tightly.

He carefully removed the cloth and soaked it thoroughly in the burning liquid again - before returning it to my cheek. I tried pulling back, but with no success as Steve held me firmly.

"Oww, Soda," I gasped, while I had his hand in almost a death grip, my knuckles turning white.

"It's alright, baby..." He removed the cloth again - that had been washed deep red, with almost no grey remaining - and glanced up at Steve.

"Steve, where gonna need some stitches," Sodapop said, as he tossed the soiled cloth in the paper waist basket, before retrieving a clean one.

Steve gave a single nod, "Yeah, right."

"Hmm, Soda... I don't want stitches. It already hurts as it is." I whined, as Steve released my shoulders, coming round the front.

Soda sighed, lightly, "Yeah, I know it does, baby." He gave my hand a comforting squeeze. "But it needs to be stitched, it's too deep to heal on its own."

Steve pulled a long pointed needle from the first aid, disinfecting it with alcohol, then carefully thread through thin cotton. He placed his hand under my chin - like Soda had, and began stitching up the open gash.

Soda soaked the new cloth with alcohol, to clean out the deep gash on my arm, below my shoulder. He dabbed it against the wound causing me to yelp at the burn, and jump back.

"Shit kid... I almost stabbed you with the needle. Sit still would you." Steve scolded, angrily.

I bit my lower lip, and stared helplessly at Soda - wishing that somehow he could make the pain all disappear.

"I know this hurts, baby..." Soda said, as he placed the cloth on the table, so Steve could finish the job without me moving. "...I know it does, but your bein' real tuff about this."

I didn't feel tough though; my palms were sweating - from gripping Soda's hand, and I was yelping and owwing every few seconds. I bet if it was anyone else sitting here but me, they wouldn't so much as even flinch - but something was telling me I'm far from right on that.

After Steve finished stitching my cheek, he started on my arm, but he didn't use the cloth like Soda had. He picked up the bottle of alcohol and grabbed my arm with his other hand just below my elbow, then moved my arm so it was running across my stomach, then held it down against my side in a vice-like grip so I couldn't move it.

"Hold still kid, this might sting a bit." Steve warned, with a quick glance at me.

...

Bella Lilac


	17. Apple of Two Kinds

Soda leaned forwards, placing his hands to the top of my thighs, weighing them down with his weight - so I couldn't jump up, while he was still gripping my hand. I closed my eyes again, waiting for the pain... but, boy, did it come - as soon as he tipped that bottle up, the pain shot right through me. I was hollering and struggling to get outta their hold.

"Soda..." I cried.

"Shh, it's alright, baby... just relax. It's almost over." Soda soothed, trying to calm me.

"No...no more. Please Soda..." my teary, big, greenish-grey eyes pleaded him.

He brought his hand up, running his index finger lightly across my cheek - chasing away the stray tears, before placing it back to my thigh. "Hey, It's ok... I'm right here. Your doing really good, kiddo."

He gave my hand a comforting squeeze, as Steve asked, "Ready, kid?" I turned my glance from Soda, to Steve - but remained silent, with pleading eyes.

"Hey, don't give me that look, kid," said Steve, "Listen, I don't wanna be doin' this anymore than you do, but it's for your own good."

"C'mon Steve, let's just get it over with." Soda softly responded. Though, I could see from his features, he'd rather not be doing this either.

Steve tilted the bottle again, pouring more alcohol into the gash, causing me to thrash around violently from the pain. Soda was struggling to keep me still, he really had to use force to hold me down now.

"Calm down, kid. I just need to stitch it now." Steve said, collecting up the already threaded needle.

"Hush, Ponyboy. It's alright... it's almost done." Soda soothed, trying to calm me from the painful ordeal.

I took my free hand, wiping at my eyes - removing any unwanted tears, as I tried to regain my composure, and taking a few less then steady breaths. Soda's hold loosened, with him tracing his bitten down nails along my hand and arm - the tingling on my skin, relaxing me, as Steve carefully stitched my arm. Before placing a large cotton bandage around the now closed gash, he smeared a great amount of antibiotic cream over it.

"Your all done." Steve said, returning the cream to the first aid box.

"Thanks, can I go now?" I asked, softly.

"Hold on, kiddo. I'm not done checking you over yet." Soda said, standing from his chair, and indicating for me to do the same. I obliged, with him taking me under the arm, helping me up. He then proceeded to take the hem of my t-shirt, pulling it past my waist to my chest.

"Take a deep breath in for me, honey," as I did, he pressed his fingers firmly into my already bruised ribs, causing me to wince.

"Soda..." I whined.

"Sorry kiddo, needed to make sure you had no broken ribs." Soda said, sounding relieved that non were broken. Then pulled me towards him, wrapping his arms around me. I leaned into him, sighing deeply - with my right cheek pressed against his shoulder.

"You're a good kid, Ponyboy," he murmured, into the top of my hair. Suddenly he pulled back from me - but not away. "I don't know what I'd ever do if I lost you..." he said, looking deadly serious.

I felt Soda's arms loosen, and one unfold from my body, as the other stayed firmly in place - holding me securely. He gently brushed some loose hair from my forehead, before his hand came to rest under my chin.

"You feel a little warm, kiddo." Soda said, tilting my head to the side, examining the stitches.

He looked to Steve, who was busy cleaning away the used first aid supplies.

"Steve?"

Steve looked up, from closing the lid to the warn box. "Yeah, Soda?" he asked, taking it by the chained metal handle - replacing it, to its rightful place by the cabinet.

"I might take Ponyboy home, he needs to rest."

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll finish up here, then swing by yours later."

"Thanks buddy, I'll catch you later."

I followed a few steps behind Soda out the station door, and past the pumps. Before catching up and walking beside him.

"Soda?"

He turned to glance at me, as he continued walking. "Yeah, kiddo?"

"Listen, I'll be fine on my own, and plus Darry won't be happy if you miss out on part of your pay." It didn't feel right that Soda had to miss work because of me, and I knew Darry needed the money... but, also I wasn't much in the mood for company.

"You just let me worry about Darry... and I'm not leaving you on your own after what just happen, those Soc's could be out there still and I'm not taking any chances. C'mon, let's go."

As we reached our old wire front gate, Soda unlatched the metal chain, then held it open, letting me pass. I climbed the porch steps, with Soda trailing me, and swung the fly screen open - I'm surprise that thing is still on its hinges, the way everyone comes in swinging it open all the time - then letting it slam shut. Soda headed for the bathroom singing out that he was going to take a shower, to get all the grease off him.

I made my way towards the kitchen as I heard the door to the bathroom click shut and opened the fridge door to grab myself a Pepsi. As I was hunting the shelves, my eyes landed on Two-Bit's beers - it made me think back to having those beers with Curly the other day, how it made me feel relaxed, and numb - and wondered vaguely if it'd numb wounds. Then the painful memory of what happened after last time came flooding in - well, it may help numb my wounds, but it sure ain't gonna help my backside if I get caught.

I listened carefully, and could still hear the water running in the bathroom, figuring I had enough time to at least down one - so to at least take the edge off the pain. I pulled out the closest bottle, and popped the lid - quickly talking a large mouthful of the bitter liquid, then listened for the shower water again, still hearing it run. I wandered over to the kitchen window, staring out at the old oak tree looking at how inviting it looks right about now. It sure was nice out today. Watching the outside world was rather calming and relaxing, the way the branches swayed lightly in the breeze, with the occasional twitter of a bird flying overhead. I'd much rather be out there lost in a book, but with my recent injuries I don't think that was about to happen.

I tilted the bottle again, taking another fast swig. But upon taking the mouthful the bitterness caught the back of my throat causing me to choke slightly. I patted at my chest, helping it go down.

I was almost halfway through the bottle; my mind had long ago wandered away from listening out for the shower, and still preoccupied in starring out the uncleaned glass kitchen window, into the backyard. I had just taken another mouthful, when a painful slap landed to the back of my head, causing me to choke again.

I couldn't even yelp, as a fierce cycle of coughing took over - but a hand came to my back, patting it, until my coughing subsided. I could feel Soda's eyes on my back, and knew I needed to face the music sooner rather than later, and reluctantly turned to face my rather angry looking older brother, whom stood tall with his arms crossed protectively over his broad chest.

Neither one of us spoke. I could feel his eyes boring into me, but was to afraid to look up and see what emotions lay in them, and turned my eyes towards the old linoleum flooring instead; as I continued to still hold the half drank bottle, loosely in my right hand.

"Well, I'm waiting?" Soda's voice took on a deep, but low tone as he waited for me to speak up. But I couldn't seem to get my mouth moving, and wasn't just sure as to what I could possibly say to get out of this mess. When my silence went on for a lot longer than his liking, he spoke up again.

"Ponyboy, you better start talking. Right now, kid."

I knew I was probably making the situation worse by my keeping silent, but somehow I also don't think my confessing would help this situation either. When I remained silent, he exhaled roughly shaking his head, then snatched the bottle from my hands. I immediately snapped my head up and stared at him, stunned.

"Would you prefer if we spank first, talk later?" he asked, taking a step towards me and placed the bottle on the kitchen counter.

My eyes widened as I found my voice, "No Soda." I panicked, backing up and away from him. There was no way I was gonna let him do that.

"Well then, start talking." Soda spoke firmly and raised his eyebrows, with his arms crossed tightly over his chest again.

"Umm, w-what do ya want me to say?" my voice shook slightly, as I bit my lip nervously. I watched his facial expressions, seeing if there was any hint of sympathy, or maybe anyway he might let me off lightly, but there was none. He stood firm.

"An explanation would be a great start."

"I... umm... I," I stumbled over my words, as I tried to form a suitable explanation in my head. But I couldn't come up with anything that might void even a fraction of what was to come of my punishment. I was in the water too deep, and my chance of resurfacing myself was almost nil to none.

"You _what_, Pony? You thought you might get away with it, that I wouldn't notice." Soda's voice rose, as he advanced towards me again, which only resulted in me backing further away from him. "Com'er Ponyboy."

"No, no wait, Soda." I held my hands out in front, in a stop motion, and making sure to keep the distance between us. "I... umm... please Soda, I'm sorry." I pleaded with him, with hopes he'll see fair and leave it at that. "C'mon Soda, I didn't even like it and I promise I won't do it again. _Ever_ again. You have my word." I gave him my best puppy eyes, as the icing on the cake and waited for him to crack.

"No Ponyboy, this is the third incident in-" he started, but I cut him off by yelling over the top of him before he spoke further, "But Soda, I said I'm sorry and-" He slapped his hand down hard on the kitchen bench, causing me to jump and turn my head immediately up at him.

"That's enough!" He warned loudly, his voice taking on a parental tone.

I gulped, praying my backside wasn't next.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely cut off, is that this is the third incident in less than two weeks. And I'll be dammed if I let this behaviour continue. You know full well not to touch alcohol, as you have been warned of many times." He stopped and studied me for a minute, before continuing. "You know what, I'm gonna let Darry deal with you this time, and maybe this time you'll learn."

I know he was refuring to the time he spanked me for sneaking out, drinking and causing havoc with Curly. And yes he let me have it good, but to let Darry _deal_ with me...

"No, please Soda... don't tell Darry." I pleaded as my green-grey eyes welled up with tears. "Please, don't tell Darry." Sure the punishment Soda would have dished out wouldn't have been pleasant, but Darry - now he was another story, he doesn't hold back. With Soda at least he comforts me afterwards, and reassures me someway or another throughout - whether it be a rub of my back, or some gentle hushed whispers - he lets me know it's alright, that even though I'm over his knees getting my butt blistered, I feel safe and secure. Not that I don't feel that way about Darry; but he doesn't comfort me the way that Soda does. Darry's always rough with me, though I'm sure he doesn't mean to be - he comforts me to a certain extent, but nothing as Soda does.

Him and Soda are two different apples - sometimes they can be dry and tart, leaving a slightly bitter taste in your mouth, but maybe that apple may grow a little sweeter as you bite further into it. Then others are sweet and juicy, enticing you to have another bite, until only the core remains and craving you for another. Soda is that of a sweet apple; his almost always wearing a large grinned smile plastered to his face, and cares about anyone and everybody. My older brother knows exactly how to cheer me up, or how to soothe me, and his warm hugs never go unnoticed. He is always happy-go-lucky and his affection is almost catching, and his probably the least selfish person I know. Darry would have to be a slightly sour apple, with a hint of sweetness; you want a little taste but not too much - he isn't as affectionate as Soda, and not one for passing out hugs, or anything in that manner. Though I can't say that he isn't caring, cause that'd be lying; he cares for both Soda and me, and also the gang - but mostly of Soda, he doesn't go off at Soda near as much as he does me, and Soda gets away with a whole lot more - I'm sure if Sodapop flashed that smile of his, he could get away with murder. But I know Darry cares for me too, even if he doesn't say so. I don't mean to be comparing my brothers to produce, but sometimes life has a funny way of putting things into perspective.

Soda stepped closer towards me, and this time I aloud it without moving away from him. I think it was cause I knew he wasn't going to be punishing me any longer, but that didn't exactly reassure me, I think I'd rather have him do it than Darry anyway. He pulled me to him, and wrapped me in a tight embrace. I leaned into him, resting my head against his shoulder, content with the sudden comfort.

"Pony, you know I love you without a doubt, don't you kiddo?" I nodded against his somewhat stained with who knows what (most likely grease) white t-shirt, wondering where this was going. Of course I knew he loved me, it was just plain and obvious, and I loved him just the same. He was my big brother, that always looked out and was there for me, that chased the tears away, and made me smile, of course I loved him.

"That's good," I heard the smile in his voice, before it turned serious again, "Just so you know, I'm not turning you over to Darry to be mean or anything, kiddo. I just think this'll be better for him to deal with this time round. He maybe able to get the point across a little better, cause it didn't seem to work from last time I did it. You savvy?"

"No... no, please Soda." I begged, as silent yet warm tears began rolling down my flush cheeks. I swiped at them quickly, but within milliseconds they were replaced by more. "No, no Soda. I-I only did - did it to see if it'd make the pain go away. Please Soda, don't tell Darry." I couldn't hold back the oncoming sobs, and clung to his shirt like a life line, and let the salty tears soak into the material.

He lightly rubbed my back as he answered, "Aww, kiddo, I don't know where you get these ideas from. I really don't."

"A-re, are you still gonna tell D-Darry?"

"Yeah, I am kiddo." He answered, as he continued running his fingers up and down my back. He held me, and lightly swayed side to side, while trying to soothe me. My sobs slowly lessened, until they became just sniffles.

"Alright, you right now?" I gave a half nod, with a shrug of my shoulders. I still couldn't believe he was gonna tell Darry; couldn't he just do it and get it over with. "Ok, I want you to go to our room, and think about what you did till Darry gets home."

"No, please Soda." I tried pleading with him one last time. But knowing it was rather hopeless now, when none of my other pleads worked.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," he said, releasing his hold around me, but my arms stayed firmly planted around his waist. "But, it's gonna hurt, Soda." I whined, hoping he'll feel sorry for me.

"Well, you should've thought about that beforehand. And yes it will hurt, it's suppose to." Hmm, no such luck at sympathy. "Alright, go on," he said, trying to pry my arms from around him. I reluctantly let go, giving him one last pleading puppy eyed look.

"Go, Ponyboy." He nodded in the direction of our bedroom. I sullenly turned, and walked to our room.

I closed my door behind me, sitting down on the edge of my bed - damn beer, didn't help my arm at all.

...

Bella Lilac

A/N - Thanks for all your lovely reviews, they truly mean a lot and let me know whom is still enjoying this story. Hope you all have a lovely weekend. Bella.


	18. A Spoonful of Unfortunate

**WARNING: Contains Spanking**

I stood up from my bed, walking over to my ever growing collection of books - most of which are my favourite authors, or that are that dog eared and been read over and over again - sitting in two un-neat piles pushed up against the wall on the chest of drawers; figuring I'd read something to help distract me, to try and ignore the painful throbbing not to mention burning in my arm and lingering sting in my cheek for a while. I scanned through the titles quickly and pulled one from the pile that hadn't been read in at least a good year or so, then moved back over to my bed and took a seat towards the headboard, sliding myself up against it and bent my knees up towards my chest, leaning my book at the top of my bent legs to use as a rest, and read from page one. I got completely soaked up in the book and lost track of time, but as I was flicking through the pages and settling almost a quarter way through the thickly paged book a niggling feeling itched at the back of my throat - a familiar itch - for a cigarette. Only one minor problem, I wasn't sure if I was allowed to leave my room yet.

I turned my eyes around mine and Soda's room, trying to rack my brain for an idea - but feeling all the more trapped inside these four walls - until my eyes landed on our slightly unlatched bedroom window. I knew it was a risk, a _big_ risk, but I was desperate. I sat my book down beside me to rest on our quilt cover, and slid from my position from the bed. I unwound the window fully and mentally prayed no one would come in. I knew I'd catch it big time smoking in the house, and on top of getting caught drinking - I didn't even want to think what'd happen.

I moved my olive green swivel desk chair, so it was by the open window, then grabbed my half full slightly crumpled pack of smokes from my bedside. I sat my backside down on the worn vinyl padding of the seat and pulled an unlit stick from the pack, and lit up - hoping most of the smell would be swept out.

I leaned my elbow on the window sill, staring out into the backyard, taking a long drag from my cigarette. I noticed it was moving on to later in the afternoon now, as the sun was starting to set, with the sky turning a vibrant pink shade.

My mind was lost as I stared out at the glorious colours displayed in front of my eyes; the pinks were now turning brilliant shades of reds and orange, as the golden fire of the sky slowly sank lower.

I sat there mesmerised by the sight in front of me, as I smoked my cigarette. As Darry would say - my head was up in the clouds. I couldn't even tell you what I was thinking about, but I can tell you I'd forgotten all reality around me.

Put it this way - I never heard the bedroom door open behind me... or, Darry walk in... or, him storming loudly over to me. I did notice though, him ripping the cigarette from my hand - burning me slightly as the glowing bud slid from my fingers, then stubbed it out on the sill.

I could tell by the look of his face, he _was_ furious - he didn't have to tell me that - it was plan and simple. I knew I was in deep shit, and I was the only one to blame.

"Ponyboy Michael, you are just asking for a good whipping," he scolded. "I don't know what the hell goes on in that head of yours sometimes. Soda just finish telling me he caught you drinking and now this, how many times have I told you never to smoke in the house, huh? Too many."

I kept my eyes glued to my lap, as Darry yelled at me.

"Do you ever just stop to think a second before you go and do the next stupid thing? Seriously Ponyboy, I feel like I'm constantly repeating myself to you. I'm fed up with this behaviour of yours," he continued, before his voice rose even higher.

"And drinking, I don't even know where to begin... this is the third incident in the last couple of weeks, Soda and I have both warned you never to touch that stuff and here you go and do it again... I'm gonna make your backside hurt that much, your not _ever_ gonna want to touch another beer bottle again."

He went to grab my arm, but I somehow managed to slip out of his reach. Then I moved as fast as I could away from him, jumping onto my bed crawling over to the other side and jumped off, then bolted out the door.

I was running full bolt down the hallway, turning my head quickly to see where Darry was. In the split second I had my head turned, I didn't notice Soda coming the opposite way. I guess he heard the yelling and wanted to check to make sure everything was alright.

I smashed straight into him at full speed, he would of seen me coming toward him and readied himself to grab me, he managed to keep his balance and held me by both of my arms.

"Whoa, slow down kiddo. What's wrong?" He asked, looking at my fearful face.

"Let go of me, Soda. Let go." I panicked, trying to break free from his hold.

I could hear heavy thudding footsteps coming from behind me, causing me to struggle even more. Then there was a jingling sound followed by a sharp sting in my backside - that stopped my struggling quick smart - and turned so I was leaning my back in against Soda's chest for protection, then grabbed his arms holding them firmly around my chest.

"What happened, Darry?" Soda questioned, from behind me.

"Nothin' yet..." Darry said, looking straight at me. "but, did you know... I happened to find our little brother here, smoking in the bedroom," he spoke, before raising his voice. "right after you had just finished telling me he had been drinking, and decided to disobey my authority, again. Get here now, Ponyboy."

He must think I was stupid if I'd go over to him when he was holding his thick black leather belt in his hands. I dropped my eyes from him, to the ground, staring at the worn in carpet instead.

I'm glad Soda kept his hold around me. I'm sure he could feel my heart thumping heavily in my chest, as his arms were wrapped around me.

"Ponyboy, I'm not kidding around." Darry warned me, as though somehow he thought that I thought he was kidding. I knew he wasn't kidding, but neither was I.

When he could see I was not going to cooperate with him, he turned to Soda.

"Fine, if that's the way you want to play it. Soda turn him around right now, or you'll get one too." Darry's voice held a no nonsense tone; it was mixed of fine authority together in a deep masculine tone.

"But Darry..." Soda started to say. Maybe he was actually regretting having Darry deal with me now, but there was no way of him changing that decision now.

"NOW!" Darry roared that loud the walls shook, causing me to jump and for Soda to obey his command without further question.

To say I was scare was an _understatement_, I was _petrified_.

Trembling, I pressed my face firmly into Soda's white t-shirt, squeezing my eyes tightly closed. My arms wrapped around his middle waist - white knuckles gripping the back of his thrown over, short sleeve, checkered shirt. Waiting for the dreaded moment that thick piece of leather came in contact, to make it's first red mark. I felt Soda's arms snake around me, resting his palms on my back, rubbing gently in a calming manner to try ease my fear - even if it was only the slightest comfort, it helped.

Darry didn't even wait two seconds before he laid into me. I felt my pants along with my underwear ripped to my ankles, followed by a sharp crack across my backside, I gasped, feeling the prick of tears sting at the corner of my eyes. Though I wouldn't let them fall just yet.

Talking a sharp shaky breath, I tightened my hold around Soda, grasping his shirt more firmly where I'd bunched it up in my shaking hands - if that were at all possible, seeing as my hands were already holding the shirt in a death grip. Just as the next wave of pain hit, sending a burning sensation running though my backside. I jumped at the sudden shock, letting out a yelp.

As the belt landed the third time, I felt Soda jump slightly - my guess is Darry either swung too hard, or, too wide, having the tail end flip around me, hitting him accidentally. No sound escaped his throat though, not _even_ a whimper. I felt his arms tighten up around me, as Darry continued.

Darry certainly didn't mess around when dishing out punishment, what with all that built up muscle power behind the belt, he really made you feel it.

And it hurt.

By the forth strike I couldn't hold back the threatening sobs, that I held in the back of my throat. The belt landed running across my bare backside like fire slicing through my skin, and my wall broke, my eyes flooded with tears making their silent but known trails, running down my cheeks.

Darry kept bring that damn belt down continuously, hit after hit.

My body racked with ear piercing cries that I could no longer hold back.

The burning pain was overwhelming - my screams muffled by Soda's chest, his shirt now tear soaked right through. I could feel my knees begin to buckle, threatening to collapse on me at any second - for sure I'd be crumpled to the ground any minute. Soda must have sensed this, as his grip on me tightened substantially, his whole strength holding my weight up against him, keeping me on my feet.

"Darry, I think his had enough." I could hear the quiver in Soda's softly spoken tone, and didn't miss the snivel at the end; I wondered if he must be crying too.

A handful of fire cursing strikes landed on my upper thighs, then it all suddenly stopped. I waited for the next one to come, but nothing.

"It's over now, Ponyboy." Came Darry's deep voice.

I'm not sure the number of hits I received, and I'm not sure I care. I just think I'd be lucky if I can sit come a weeks time. Soda must of been unfortunate an' been nicked with the tail end on more than one occasion, I felt the slight jumps throughout, but like I said, he never made a sound. I'm guessing he though what I was getting was far worse than some accidental hits.

As soon as Darry spoke those words, that it was over, I let go of Soda and sunk to the ground, and covered my face with my hands and just bawled. I cried. Heart wrenched sobs. Fire burning pain. Soda didn't even wait a second before he had me in his arms again, crouched down, arms around me. I buried my face in his shoulder and just let my emotions go.

A heavy hand rested on my shoulder - Darry's hand. I'm not sure if it was for comfort or what, it rested there for a second before he removed it.

"I hope I never have to do that again Ponyboy, but don't even think for a second that I won't. If I ever catch you smoking in that room again, or with beer so much as on your breath, I'll have that belt back on your backside so fast it'll make your head spin." Darry's hard voice spoke from above me, then paused before continuing, "I'm gonna make a start on dinner. Will you be right with him for a bit Soda?"

I felt Soda nod, then Darry sighed. "Ok." He said, before I heard his heavy footsteps walked down the hall toward the kitchen.

Soda stayed with me trying his best to comfort me. But no matter how much comfort he gives, it'll never numb the pain I'm feeling. I don't think I've ever experienced so much pain in one day, as I did today - the gash on my arm is burning something awful, and now my backside feels exactly how my arm does. The only good thing that'll come from this, is a tuff lookin' scar from the gash across my cheek.

He cradled me in his arms as I continuously sobbed. My cries were showing no signs of slowing at all - if I had a dam wall around me, well... this is what it'd look like if it had a huge crack and all the water came flooding out - all my emotions from today were coming out in one big hit, and I had nothing to stop it.

"Shh... it's ok, baby. It's ok." He rocked me back and forth in attempt to soothe me, he sat with me and waited, waited patiently as my heavy sobs slowly began to subside. I stayed in his arms taking hollow shuddering breaths, as I tried holding back the next set of tears that threatened to fall.

"Do you wanna go lay down, honey?" He spoke carefully in a gentle tone.

I nodded as I breathed in another shuddering breath, and aloud him to pull me up. He reached back down suddenly pulling my pants and underwear back up - I'd forgot all about them, I would have tripped over them if I had tried to walk. I gave a sniffle, wiping my arm across my eyes then under my nose, letting out a rugged sigh.

He led me to our bedroom, and pulled back the covers for me, I climbed under carefully lying on my stomach, then he covered me up. I just wanted to curl up in bed and never have to get up again, until there was no pain left to feel... maybe if I sink into the bed far enough, everything might disappear and all that'll be left is pain free.

Soda carefully took a seat at the edge of the bed, causing a slight dip to the mattress and rested a hand to the middle of my back, rubbing softly. I continued to snivel and wipe the lone tear that found its way down my cheek. His hand softly stroked soothing circles up and down and around, all over my back.

"S-soda?" I snivelled again.

"Yeah, honey?" he answered quietly, rubbing gentle circles around my shoulder blades.

"C-could... could you lay down with me, please?"

"Of course I can, baby." He said, wiggling an inch closer and lied down next to me.

I snuggled up closer to him, and rested my head on his chest. I closed my eyes listening to the rhythm of his heart and the continue rise and fall of his chest. But however much I tried to ignore it, my arm... and backside for that matter, continued to throb with pain.

"Soda?"

"Yeah, baby?" He answered, as he absentmindedly ran his fingers through my hair.

"Soda, my arm really, _really_, hurts."

"Ok baby, can you get up for a second? I'll take a look at it."

I slid from Soda's stomach, placing my head onto the pillow. He sat up and took my left arm in his hand, then unwrapped the cloth bandage. I could tell he was being rather gentle with it and trying not to touch it, but what I didn't know was how bad it really was. I could see that his expression though looked quite concerned.

"What's wrong, Soda?" I asked, growing a little worried.

"It's ok, baby," he soothed, rubbing my back. "I want Darry to take a look at it though, ok?"

I nodded, then he practically jumped off the bed and ran out the bedroom door. Not even two seconds later Darry came in with Soda trailing behind him, he resumed his place on the bed at my right, while Darry took a seat on my left side.

Soda pulled me towards him again, to rest my head back against his chest, I snuggled against him as Darry checked my arm. Then Darry left the room saying he'd be right back.

I heard Darry return, and tell Soda to hold something on my arm; my arm flinched at the sudden cold touch.

"It's ok, baby... it's just an ice bag." Soda tried reassuring me.

Darry then walked around to the other side of the bed; where Soda was laying and I was facing. He held a spoon and plastic medicine bottle with some kind of clear liquid in it, and in his other hand a glass of chocolate milk.

"Can you sit up, kiddo? I need you to take this for me." Darry said, as he placed the chocolate milk on the bedside table.

I kept my right arm across Soda's stomach and used it to push myself up. Soda also placed his left hand under my chest to help me lean up a little more, but also to help steady me. It was the best I could do, seeing as my left arm was out of action.

Darry poured some of the liquid onto the spoon, then carefully moved it toward me.

"Open," he instructed. I obeyed, then regretted it as soon as he placed the spoon in my mouth, the medicine was really bitter, it was awful. I held it in my mouth, unwilling to let the dreadful stuff, so much as hit the back of my throat.

"Ponyboy, swallow it." He ordered, firmly. I shook my head.

"Do it quickly, then you can have the chocolate milk to wash it down." I shook my head, again, having the bitter mix swish around my mouth, I grimaced at the taste.

Darry sighed roughly, probably at the thought of having such a stubborn kid on his hands - but I wasn't trying to be hard, _it really, truly was that bad_. He placed his hand under my chin and tilted my head right back, forcing me to swallow it. I moaned as the bitter liquid went down.

"Here," he said, picking up the glass of milk. "This'll help get rid of the taste." He handed me the glass. I took a large mouthful, and swished it around my mouth before swallowing it, then did it again until the glass was empty, handing it back to Darry.

"Better?" He asked. I just nodded, and rested my head back down on Soda's chest again.

"Alright, I'll be back in about fifteen minutes. The medicine should have kicked in by then." Darry said taking the medicine bottle from the bedside, and left the room.

"How you feeling, kiddo?" Soda asked me, as he lightly stroked my back.

"Still sore." I mumbled.

Neither of us said anything for the next several minutes. I could feel myself getting rather sleepy, and Soda's soothing back rub didn't help that matter either.

"Soda?" my voice sounding drowsy.

"Yeah?"

"My stomach hurts a bit."

"Do you feel like your gonna be sick?"

"I dunno, I don't think so." I said, sounding unsure. But, I could feel a sudden uneasiness in my stomach.

Silence.

"Soda?"

"Yeah?"

"When's Darry coming back?"

"Soon, why?"

Silence again.

"Soda?" I asked again, as he lightly stroked his hand through my hair again.

"Yeah, honey?"

"I'm really tired, Soda." I said, followed by a deep yawn.

"I know honey, close you eyes."

"I can't..."

"Why not, baby?"

"Is Darry coming back soon?" I asked drowsily, yawning again.

"Yeah, he is honey... now close your eyes."

I slowly shut my eyes; only to open them seconds after, as Darry walked into the room.

"Darry?"

"Yeah kiddo, how you feeling?"

"Umm... tired." I answered, feeling really, _really_ sleepy.

"Does your arm hurt at all?"

I just looked at him with a blank stare. "Umm..." Then shook my head. "no, my stomach does."

"What did you give him, Darry?" Soda asked, letting the concern in his voice show, though I couldn't understand why. I was just too damn tired.

"Just some morphine, why?"

"Well, it's sure knocked the kid good."

I suddenly felt my face flush white, and the taste of bile rise in my throat. "Soda, I... Soda..." I didn't have time to get the rest out. I felt a bucket being shoved against my chest, and everything I had in my stomach came rushing out; once there was nothing left in my stomach to throw up, I collapsed back down against Soda's chest exhausted, and closed my eyes.

It felt like hours had passed, but what was probably only mere minutes - someone was telling me to lean up, but I couldn't. I was so tired, and all my energy felt as if it'd been drained, the most I could manage was a moan.

I felt a pair of arms snake around my chest, lifting me from my position on Soda.

"Here, rinse your mouth." I felt a cup to my lips and did as I was told, I swished a few times, spitting into the bucket. Than a new glass took its place. "Drink this." I took a sip, feeling the cool water in my mouth, then hit the back of my burning throat, it felt good. I gulped down a few large mouthfuls, but that only resulted in Darry taking the glass away.

"Slow down, kiddo... just take small sips, or you'll make yourself sick again."

I laid back down, resuming my place on Soda. Darry then placed his cool hand across my forehead, leaving it there for a few seconds, before it was replaced with a cold damp wash cloth.

I closed my eyes feeling sudden sleep taking over, and relishing in the coolness of the washer. As I was falling into half sleep, I caught part of Darry's and Soda's conversation, but couldn't make it out fully.

"...bad Darry?"

"...infected...stitches out...flush out the wound...restitch.."

"Ok...almost asleep."

"Good...keep him relaxed...asleep...second." That was the last of their conversation I heard, before I was out like a light.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

...

Bella Lilac


	19. Unending Battle

Darry rang his boss early this morning, calling to take personal leave. I told him it was pointless that I don't need a babysitter, but he stood his ground, saying; "Ponyboy, it is my decision as a guardian to decide if I need to stay home and care for you or not, and right now my decision stands and you need to be in bed resting."

But it didn't end there.

Darry had been in the kitchen cleaning from breakfast, when he'd called me in.

"But Darry I'm not tired, and my stitches are fine." I had whined back.

"It's not the fact that your tired, or not Ponyboy. It's the fact that you had infected stitches yesterday, and need to be resting for them to heal properly."

"But I've been resting all night, I wanna go out."

"Well I can tell you now kiddo, your not going out, now get to bed." He'd taken a step away from our kitchen table towards me - facing me, at arms length - folding his muscular arms across his broad chest.

"Can I go to the DX and see Soda, then?" I'd asked hopeful.

"No, bed." He'd given me a pointed look, as he stood firm; his black t-shirt taut across his muscular chest as his bulging biceps protruded from his shirt sleeves. He didn't look like someone you'd want to mess with as he'd stood there - but being his younger brother it's my job to push buttons - but on top of that, I also wasn't the least bit tired, or wanting to go to bed...

"But, I'm not tired." I had whined again.

"You don't need to sleep, you need to rest. Now go."

"I don't wanna rest either, I'm bored..." I'd tried again, but failing to see that my side of the battle was losing...

"Ponyboy, I don't wanna hear it. Either you go now, or I'll make you go."

"But, Darry..."

He then had turned me in the direction to my room, and gave my backside a sharp smack to get me moving. I'd stomped my way to my room, closing the door.

...unfortunately I had lost the battle - for now.

That was over an hour ago.

I was now laying waist deep under my bed, hunting for an old switch Dally had given to me.

When I'd first come in here I had flopped down onto my bed, looking up at all the cracks in the ceiling; some even had parts of paint that'd peeled, and ruff around edges hanging from the cracked and peeling paint... and endless marks covered the once 'pure' white paint. Years of horse play, and tossing objects towards/at the ceiling had done that - as either Soda or I laid numbly on the bed, mindlessly pitching whatever we got our hands on first, towards the ceiling before catching it again, and again... sure other marks or cracks occurred else how, but that's the gist of it. Then my eyes landed on the fist-sized hole, that was in our wall over by the wooden window frame. Dally had been in a bad mood that day. I can't remember what is was exactly, but I remember it had something to do with our rival gang. No one else was home, and I was in here on my bed reading a book, when he came in here cussing up a storm, and put his fist through the plaster. "You ain't gotta let _no one_ hurt you kid, you stay tough kid, and _no one'll_ touch you." He had said. I'd kept my mouth shut. When Dally was in a mood like that, an' his eyes blazin, you'd known better than to talk to him. Then without another word - he'd pulled his black handled switch from his back pocket, tossed it to me, than he'd left.

I have already looked through all my drawers - clothes now hung out over the open drawers and piled on the ground. Next I'd pulled everything out from the floor of our wardrobe, and now I'm looking under the bed - there is a whole lot a years worth of clutter under here; I'd bet you could lose a tanker under here if you tried hard enough.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen that blade. It was a real fancy one... you know, the real nice ones, with the black wooden carved handles. I was _now_ carrying the one Two-Bit had swiped for me, from a down town corner store.

I found an old tennis ball we use to use in our backyard as kids, and threw it out from under the bed, having it bounce loudly off the wall behind me.

As I was pulling things out, I never even heard the bedroom door open.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Darry's loud voice boomed from above me.

I jumped at the sound of his voice, hitting the back of my head on the spring base of mine and Soda's bed. "_Ouch_," I yelped, rubbing my head. "I'm looking for somethin'."

"Get out from under there, now."

"But, I haven't found it yet." I said, still throwing things out from under the bed.

"I don't care. I said now, Ponyboy." Darry said, firmly.

I sighed, and slid out from under the bed. Darry grabbed me under the arm, and pulled me to my feet, looking rather angry.

"What do you think your doin'? I said for you to be resting on the bed, not climbing under it, and look at this room... this mess had better be cleaned up before I come back in here."

My eyes wandered around the room - it looked as though a bomb had gone off, and we were now standing in the rubble after the explosion. But I couldn't clean yet, not till I found what I was hunting for.

"I can't... I'm still lookin' for somethin'."

"Well, your never gonna find anything in this mess. I'm surprised you can find _anything_ in here at all."

"I can find stuff just fine. I just can't find what I'm lookin' for right now." I argued back, shooting him a scowl.

"Watch the attitude," he warned, "and maybe if you straightened up once in a while, you won't be losing things." He said, then asked. "What is it your trying to find anyway?"

"Just a blade Dally gave me, but I can't find it."

"What do you needa be findin' that for? You don't needa be carrying no blade on you."

What he didn't know was that I already carried one, but he doesn't need to know that. He'd only take it off me, if he ever caught me with it. He says it'd only give them Soc's more a reason to slice me up, if I pulled outta blade.

"I just wanted to find it."

"What you needa be doing is getting this room straightened up, cause I ain't gonna have you break your neck gettin' through here with all this mess."

"But most of it was already here, I only did some of it." I complained.

"Well, now your gonna do all of it."

"But, that's not fair... half of it's Soda's too." I argued back, my voice on the edge of a whine.

"Ponyboy, I don't wanna hear any more excuses, just do it." Darry said firmly, then walked out the bedroom door.

I huffed as I watched him leave; it's not fair that I have to clean everything._ So much for finding that blade_, I thought.

I shoved a couple things back under the bed using my foot, then spotted that damn tennis ball - giving it a swift kick across the room; it bounced off my desk, hit the chair, before resting in a pile of unsorted clothes - I gave it a scowl, before heading over to the wardrobe, and picking up a handful of what I dumped outta there back onto the wardrobe floor, then picked up another handful. This blows... I don't wanna be stuck in here cleaning all day, it's gonna take hours.

I left my room, almost on tip-toe heading through the lounge room for the front door. Just as I turned the flyscreen door handle, I heard Darry's voice. Damn.

"And just where do you think _your_ goin'?" came his stern voice, as he entered the lounge room, from the kitchen.

"Out." I replied not holding back on the attitude, as I swung the flyscreen open, and put one foot over the wooden door frame, intent on doing the same with my left.

"No, your not." He walked quickly across the room, and grabbed a firm hold onto my right upper arm. I hadn't even made it fully through the door, when he was dragging me back into the house.

"Get off of me, Darry." I yelled, as I struggled in his hold, trying to free myself from the tight grasp he had on my arm.

"Ponyboy, stop it." Darry growled, giving my arm a hard tug. But I wouldn't let up. Darry obviously was getting fed up, he roughly turned me to the side, and smacked his hand down hard on my backside. That stopped me struggling quick smart.

"_Ow_!" I involuntarily called out at the sharp sting, and threw my free hand behind me to cover my backside from further assault.

"Now, you listen to me." Darry used his parental tone, turning me back to face him. "I am not having this attitude, Ponyboy. I want you in that room resting, and the next time you disobey me I'll be taking my belt off, understood? I did not take the day off from work for you to go wandering the streets." He paused, then added. "And I'll bet you haven't even touched that mess in your room."

"But Darry... I just wanted to see Soda." I whined, with a hint of my kicked puppy look showing.

"You'll see him when he gets home." Darry said, as he let go of my arm, than said, "I'm gonna make us some lunch, then I want you in bed." He headed out into the kitchen with me trailing behind him. I sat down carefully - my backside still tender from the spanking yesterday - at the kitchen table putting my elbows on the table top, and resting my chin on the tops of my joint fists, watching as Darry made up a tray full of cheese toasties, then put them under the grill.

"What times Soda finish?" I asked, as he kept an eye on the grill, so lunch didn't burn.

"At two." He replied with his back towards me. I leaned back in my chair - balancing on the two behind legs - then let it drop forward with a 'bang', before pushing back in it again, and balancing - but before I could drop it back down Darry turned to face me.

"Don't do that." He warned, before turning back towards the grill, switching it off.

As I dropped the chair forward, I jolted forwards at the same time - resulting in the chair to come down harder, causing a louder 'bang' - just as Darry pulled the tray from the oven, almost dropping it. I snickered quietly to myself, then quickly tried looking as innocent as I could when Darry turned around again.

"What?" I asked, with as much innocence as I could muster.

"I said, don't do that." He scolded me.

"Well, I had to set the chair down, it's not my fault that it banged." I whined.

"Your the only one sitting on it. So who's fault is it, if it's not yours?"

Sometimes I should really learn when to bite my tongue, but sometimes the challenge is too great to ignore, and sometimes it's just too good to be a kid and have the thrill of being able to annoy your oldest brother.

"Yours," my reply, rather cheeky; as Darry raised his eyebrows at me. "Well, maybe, you outta get chairs that ain't so noisy."

"Yeah, and where we gonna find the dough to do that, huh?" He crossed his arms over his broad chest, "Maybe, I outta teach you how to sit on a chair without banging it." He gave me a firm look, then turned back putting the food on a plate. I scowled at his back, and placed an elbow on the table leaning my chin in my palm, turning my eyes down toward the table - _why is it, that he always gets the last say,_ I angrily thought.

Darry bought the lunch over, placing it down in the centre of the table, along with two sandwich plates, setting one in front of me. Then he took a seat.

I leaned forwards, grabbing a cheese toasty from the plate - biting into it, the thick layer of creamy, smooth, but stringy goodness oozed from the sides - Darry sure had put a lot of cheese in there. After downing my first, I started in on my second - polishing it off just as quickly as the first, then stood up, placing my plate in the sink.

"Alright, now I want you to go rest for a bit." Darry stated, as I passed by him.

I stopped in my tracks, "Do I have to?" I whined, as I turned to him.

"Yeah, you do," He said, then took note of my pout, he added. "and there's no need for that face. Go."

I turned, and stormed off to my room.

Sighing angrily, I sat down on the edge of my bed with a heavy thud, then turned to look at the bedside clock, it read ten past one - Soda knocks off at two, hopefully him and Steve didn't have plans, and he'll just come straight home.

I nudged the carpet with my socked foot in frustration, and annoyance at Darry for keeping me cooped up here. Two-Bit hadn't even shown up yet either, I thought he might of at least come round, but nope just me an' Darry - and all I been hearing from him all day is, bed Ponyboy, and no leaving the house...

I stayed there for a good ten minutes, before I decided to venture back out. Darry was cleaning down the countertops as I walked into the kitchen.

"Darry, can I come out yet?"

Darry whirled around, to see me standing not far behind him.

"Whatta you doin' back out here? Get in your room, now." Darry growled, between gritted teeth.

"But, I'm bored. I wanna come out."

"Ponyboy, I'm not asking again."

"But Darry..."

"You either go now, or you won't like the consequences." He said firmly, pointing his finger in the direction of my bedroom.

I gave an exasperated sigh, and left the kitchen. I wanted a smoke... no, I needed a smoke, Darry was gettin' under my skin, and I needed to get out. I headed into my room, and found the jeans I had been wearing the day before. Reaching into the back pocket I pulled out my pack of cigarettes and lighter, then quietly headed for the back door, and took a seat on the steps that lead out into the backyard.

I held the cigarette tightly between my lips, and placed the small flickering flame from the lighter, to the tip of it - then took in a deep drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs. As I was smoking my cigarette, I looked out at the old tree that I loved so much to laze around in; boy... how much I'd rather be out there right now, then being stuck in that house... but I knew Darry won't go for it. I'd sure get my butt busted if he knew I'd come out here, instead of going to my room like he'd wanted.

I finished off my smoke, then stubbed out the butt on the step beside me and flicked it into the over grown grass, then stood up opening the back door. As I walked in, I could hear the vacuum cleaner running from somewhere in the front room. I snuck quietly through the house, and peeked around the door frame into the lounge - Darry had his back to me, as he ran the vacuum along the old rug under the coffee table.

As I was watching him a devious, but no doubt somewhat stupid idea crossed my mind, not many people would dare do. I stifled a silent giggle at the thought, for which I knew my backside would probably pay dearly later on... but it sure as hell would be funny.

I tip-toed from behind the door, almost holding my breath, and crept my way over towards Darry and stood silently behind him, a smirk playing on my lips. I leaned in closer to him and yelled at the top of my voice, "Darry!" then immediately took a step back, as Darry jumped about a foot high in the air.

I couldn't hold back the laughter. I was almost doubled over, but straightened up fast when Darry turned to face me. I took off running before he even had the chance to speak, and took a flying jump up onto the couch.

Darry was still standing on the other side of the coffee table, the vacuum was now shut off. But the expression on Darry's face was far from happy - he almost reminded me of an ol' bull when it was about ready to charge at you, and you either had to run or you'd get a great big horn rammed up your ass.

I was about ready to run again, but still had one more thing to say.

"Can I come outta my room yet?" I asked with such cheek, as I bounce up and down, giving the old couches springs a good work out, and bursting into another fit of laughter.

Darry didn't say anything, he didn't need to. Just one glance at his face, you could easily tell he was fuming. His heavy foot steps came around the coffee table towards the couch, and I was quick to react. I bounced off the other end of the couch, and put my track practise into action, bolting to the safety of my bedroom. I slammed the door closed, jumped into my bed under the covers, pulling them up over my head, and held them down.

...

Bella Lilac


	20. Wild Dogs

Not even two seconds later the bedroom door flung wide open with such force, that I heard the wooden door knob smash into the painted drywall, then I heard the dreaded sound of a buckle jingling. I held the covers down over me with as much force as I had in me, but it was nothing compared to Darry - he ripped the bedding from my hands, throwing it almost entirely off the bed. Then grabbed me by my legs, turned me onto my stomach and dragged me so I was lying over the edge of the bed, as I kicked and screamed the whole time. Then slammed the belt down onto my backside, I screamed.

I still had an immense stinging from the spanking I had received yesterday, when Darry had laid into me, and I can still barely sit from that. Having your butt blistered, when it's still fresh from the last one, is really painful.

"I am fed up with your attitude and behaviour today." He yelled, before landing the belt for the second time, I screamed again.

"When I tell you to do something, you do it." He yelled again. Then brought the belt down again, and again.

I grabbed ahold of the fitted sheet tightly in my fists, and sobbed with my face buried into the bed.

"I took today off for you, and you have been nothin' but disrespectful." He yelled, slamming the belt down again. Then brought it down twice more, before yelling at me to get in bed. I scrambled up onto the bed, as tears flooded my eyes, and sobs racked through my body. I crawled across the bed, getting to the left side as far away from Darry as possible, and lay down on my stomach, burying my face into the soft pillow. I felt the blankets been thrown roughly over me, not pulled up or tucked around me, just thrown on.

"You stay there." His tone had a definite authority, then his heavy footsteps walked out the door.

My backside was burning, and throbbing painfully.

The pillow was dampened from my heavy flow of tears, as I cried loud shuddering sobs. Time felt like an eternity, but couldn't have been more than ten minutes.

I heard Soda's voice fill the room, a hint of disappointment to his tone. "Hey kiddo, heard you been causin' some trouble."

I took a shuddering breath, but didn't answer. I felt the bed sink beside me, and his heavy hand resting on my back.

"Darry told me what happen', he left with the truck for some groceries, won't be back for another hour." He paused, and gave my back a light tap. "So you gonna tell me what happen." He spoke calmly, but with authority in his tone.

I leaned up a little looking at him, as I wiped the tears at my eyes, then noticed the time on the clock behind him, it was only quarter past two. He had to have only just walked in the door, and by lookin' at him he hadn't even had time to wash up. His hand that lay rested to the top of his thigh, was still covered in the grease he hadn't been able to wipe off with a rag at work, no doubt his other hand on my back looked the same, and a large grease smudge lay across his forehead leading up to his hair line, and a couple smudges across his cheeks. Not to mention his clothes being covered.

"He kept makin' me go to bed, I didn't wanna. I'm _not_ _tired_ Soda, I'm _bored_." I whined.

He sighed, and rubbed his somewhat stained hand tiredly on his forehead. "You know he was only lookin' out for you kiddo." He paused, as he glanced down at me. "He was pretty worried about you, we both were. You know you can go to hospital with an infection like you had, but Darry went an' cleaned it up for you so you didn't have to, he cares a lot about you kiddo, you need to know that."

"But, he didn't have to keep makin' me go to bed." I pouted, with my teary eyes looking at him.

"Like I said, he was only try'na look out for you." He said, then stood up. "I'm gonna go grab a shower, wash this grease off me." He started toward the door, then stopped and turned back to me. "Has Darry checked your stitches, yet?"

I shook my head.

"Alright, I'll check them when I get out, and then you _are_ gonna have a sleep."

I pouted at his back, as he walked out the door, with a couple seconds later I heard the shower water running. I didn't doubt soda when he says I'm gonna sleep, cause I knew he'd get me to sleep if he tried. His like that though, he can get anyone to do just about anything if he puts his mind to it. About five minutes later I heard the water shut off, then a towel clad Soda came into the room, holding the first aid kit. He put the kit on the bedside table, and grabbed a pair of jeans shrugging them on, then sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I'm just gonna take a look at your arm, kiddo." He said, taking a gentle hold of my left arm. He unwrapped the bandage, and inspected the stitches. I watched from the position on my stomach as he opened the first aid kit, took out an ointment, and poured some onto a clean wipe, and dabbed it carefully onto the stitches, then re-wrapped a new bandage around my arm.

He threw the used wipe into the paper waist basket, and placed the ointment on the bedside table, then he climbed over the top of me to the other side of the bed and laid down next to me, throwing his arm across my back.

"I don't wanna sleep, Soda." I complained, as I tried wiggling out from under his arm.

He moved his arm from my back, and smacked his hand down on my stinging butt, making me slightly jump.

"_Oww_!" I yelped.

"Well then, lay still." He said, firmly.

I sighed, and shuffled back to the spot I had been laying in, and turned my head so I was facing Soda.

"Soda?" I whispered.

"Yeah?"

"When Darry told me to go to bed this morning, I hunted around for that blade Dally had gave me, I couldn't find it. Do you know the one, it had that really nice wood handle on it?"

"Yeah, I remember the one. You know I was wonderin' what happen' in here... I thought maybe Darry had let loose some wild dogs, an' they tore up the place." There was a slight gleam in his eyes and a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he spoke. "But now I find out it ain't 'em wild dogs we gotta worry 'bout, it's 'em wild grease kids you really needa watch out for. I think we outta teach 'em a lesson 'bout messin' with our room, whatta ya think Pon?" His smirk grew into a large grin, and I could just tell by the look in his eyes, that I knew what was comin'.

"No, Soda." I whined out his name.

Then without warning Soda leapt up from his spot, and pinned me down, an' began tickling me wildly all over, running his fingers along my sides and under my chin.

"Soda!" I screamed, as I squirmed around laughing.

I couldn't stop laughing as I begged him to stop, tears forming in my eyes.

"There, I think that outta teach 'em a lesson." He laughed, as he finally gave up the tickling rampage. "This mess had better get cleaned, otherwise I might hav'ta get the wild dogs after ya." He said, smacking my butt lightly, and dropped back down beside me. I gave him a pout, makin' him laugh again.

"What, you asked for it kiddo," he said with a grin, as he threw his arm around me again. "and now I want you to close your eyes."

"But, I'm not tired Soda." I said, looking at him across from my pillow.

"That's alright, just shut 'em anyway." He spoke gently.

I closed my eyes, and Soda pulled me into his chest. I snuggled into him, placing my head against his ribs just below his underarm. My backside was throbbing painfully, but I tried to ignore that and focus on Soda's hushed whispers to lull me, and the soothing gentle strokes he drew along my back, putting me to sleep within a few minutes.

The next thing I know I'm being gently shaken awake.

"Pony?" I faintly heard my name being called - as if a great distance away - along with another gentle shake.

"Pony, wake up kiddo. Dinners ready." Soda's soft tone cut through my dream, and I opened my eyes slowly, still feeling sleepy of just have'n been woken up.

"Hm, what time is it?" I asked, in a half awake sleepy tone.

"It's almost quarter past six." He said, as he knelt down on the edge of the bed, then laughed. "And I thought you said you weren't tired, you've been out for almost three an a half hours."

"Hmm... well, I wasn't tired then." I moaned.

"Sure you weren't, kiddo." Soda chuckled softly, "Come on, dinners ready now." He repeated, rubbing my upper-back affectionately.

A sharp throb to my backside, brought me back to the earlier events. "Umm, Soda..." I started hesitantly but stopped there, unsure of how to say what I was thinking.

He waited expectantly for me to continue, but when I didn't he prompted me. "Yeah, kiddo?"

"Umm..." I turned my head slightly and blinked up at my brother with a slight puppy look. "I don't think I can eat dinner tonight."

He gave me a confused look, and paused mid-rub on my shoulder blade - that lasted a whole second - as he read my mind, understanding my meaning - a grin quickly swept into place replacing his brief confusion. "Sure you can, we'll take a pillow in for you to sit on." He stood up, and grabbed the pillow from under my head, and pulled me up by my arm.

"Soda..." I complained of being pulled from my bed, but followed behind him into the kitchen where Darry was dishing out plates of food; a pile of coleslaw sat on each plate along with chicken and mash potato.

I watched as Darry gave Soda a side glance as he placed the pillow on a chair for me, then he turned his direction toward me. I returned him with a scowl.

He gave me a warning look with raised eyebrows. I turned my glare away from Darry, and went to sit on the cushioned chair - as soon as my backside touched the seat, it felt almost as though my blistering flesh had been placed to a red-hot iron. I immediately jumped back up with a yelp - even with the soft pillow I couldn't sit.

"Ponyboy, sit back down!" Darry scolded me.

"I _can't_." I let that word roll of my tongue as whiny as I could muster.

_"Sit. Down. Now." _He said, clearly punctuating each word, with a warning glare that told me I'd better do as he says, or else. I _knew_ that look, and _knew_ I'd better obey. I slowly sat down, again, with a grimace while squirming unsuccessfully on the pillow to get comfy.

I looked at my plate full with food, and ignoring the fork on the side of my plate, I began picking at my chicken with my fingers, placing it in my mouth.

"Use your fork." Darry's voice came from across the table, we sat around.

Scowling down towards my plate, I glanced my eyes up to see Darry looking right at me, with a not so pleased expression. Jeez, what's his problem today, can't he just leave me alone for once.

I turned my eyes back down toward my plate, with a small smirk playing on my lips. I picked up a piece of cabbage from my coleslaw, put it between my teeth - biting down on it to make that crunching sound - glancing my eyes back up at Darry I could see he was staring right at me.

"Ponyboy, that's enough!" His deep voice took its parental tone to it.

I felt a hard nudge to my leg under the table, come from my left, and glanced at Soda. He shook his head slightly with an expression that read, 'Don't push it.' I gave a small pout and turned back to my dinner in front of me that I'd barley touched.

I must of been game, or stupid, to be pushing Darry like I was after just receiving the punishment I had yesterday and the belting before. I'm sure anyone else would probably pick the latter one; but either way, he was just getting under my skin.

I placed my elbow on the table top, leaning my chin into the palm of my hand - giving Darry another quick glance, I noticed his eyes hadn't left me. I immediately turned my eyes back down toward my plate, scowling again. I ran my finger along the edge of my dinner plate - knowing both sets of eyes were watching me, but I didn't really care.

I began prodding at a piece of chicken that was near the edge of my plate, contemplating if I was game to push Darry any further - what was his problem anyway, there's no law to say not to eat with your fingers, none that I heard of anyway.

I slowly picked the chicken up, knowing full well he was watching my every move. I had it about half way to my mouth, when Darry jump up from his chair and leaned across the table, he grabbed my wrist and landed a firm smack on the back of my hand with his other hand.

"Ponyboy Curtis, that's your last warning. Do that again, and I'll give you a reminder of what my belt feels like. Understood?" Darry warned, as he held direct eye contact with me. I only had two choices... behave or belt.

I couldn't help my pout, as I nodded - with my lower lip slightly quivering. I drew my lip back, biting down on it gently with my teeth, to try stop it.

Darry let go of my wrist and sat back down in his chair to finish his dinner. I rubbed the back of my hand where he had hit, it hurt.

"Good, now pick your fork up and eat." I obeyed, grabbing my fork. I ate half my dinner, scraping the rest into the trash before heading out onto the front porch.

I stood by the railing on the front steps, pulling my pack of smokes and lighter from my pocket, then lit one up. I leaned my arms over the rail, and inhaled a deep suck from my smoke, then held it before releasing it into the warm nights air.

I was almost half way through my cigarette, before I heard the screen door open then close from behind me - no guesses for who it was though.

"Hey, kiddo... you ok?" Soda asked, coming over and standing beside me.

I nodded, then took another drag from my smoke.

We both stood silently for a few moments, just watching out into the dark front yard; listening to the night crickets as they hummed their musical sound, and the gentle rustling of the trees as the light winds breezed through their branches. It was peaceful for once.

On a normal night, you could hear a car every once in a while, making out as if our neighbourhood roads are some kinda rally racetrack. Then down to the angry screams we could hear coming from the Cade's house. Johnny's parents never let up on their yelling even after his death, they were cold hearted people. They make me sick.

I threw the remnants of my smoked cigarette over the railing, and sighed calmly, as I enjoyed this rare opportunity of the warm night air in silence... that is, until Soda decided to ruin the moment...

"So... you gonna tell me what happen' at dinner?"

I remained silent as his eyes were still fixed out into the front yard, looking deep in thought - maybe hoping that whatever it was he was staring at, might give him the answer. But I knew the darkened night would not find the response he was looking for.

"Pony?" He pushed again for an answer.

I broke my glance from the yard and turned towards Soda, and sighed deeply. He turned to face me with a concerned look, waiting on my answer.

"Why does he always have to be at me all the time?"

"Darry?"

"Who else... you know what, I'm fed up with constantly being told what to do and having him on my back about every little thing I do wrong."

"Don't be like that, kiddo. Listen, like I told you earlier he's only try'na look out for you. You know he doesn't mean anything by it, he cares a lot about you, Ponyboy. We both do."

"But..."

"No, listen, we don't want to see you get hurt, Pony... and also you know, your behaviour lately hasn't exactly been at it's best, has it?" He said firmly, raising his eyebrows.

I turned away from him, feeling defeated and buried my face in my folded over arms that lay over the top of the railing. I knew it wasn't Soda I was mad at, and maybe he was somewhat right about my behaviour, but even so... I sighed again probably for the millionth time that night.

"Hm sorry, Soda," my voice came out mumbled against my arms. I felt his hand come to rest on the middle of my back, before he lightly ran his fingers up and down.

"It's ok, kiddo," he spoke, softly. I closed my eyes, relaxing under his touch, as he continued to caress my back for a few more minutes.

I heard his sigh from above me, "C'mon, let's get you to bed."

He took a gentle hold of my arm, giving it a light tug making me look up at him. I leaned up from the rail, then followed him into the house.

As we passed the kitchen, Darry was still at the kitchen table, but there was no longer dinner plates around instead he was sorting through a pile of bills. I noticed Soda pause for a split second, then turn to me. "Pony, go get ready for bed. I'll be there in a minute."

"Alright." I watched for a second as he headed for the kitchen, then made my way for the bathroom. After I finished my teeth, I walked into my room, and noticed Soda hadn't come in yet. I grabbed my sleep pants from a pile of clothes that had been tossed carelessly onto the floor. I'm sure Darry will be at me again to get this room cleaned.

I changed, and threw my worn clothes onto the ever growing mountain, as I was just climbing into bed Soda walked into the room. "Hey kiddo!" he said, as I flopped down onto my stomach, "Hey," I said, then curled up onto my side, being careful not to touch my behind on the bed.

He threw on some pyjama pants, then climbed in beside me, wrapping his arm protectively around my chest. "What did you talk with Darry about?"

"Hmm... not much." He whispered from behind me.

"It can't of been not much, Soda. You were out there for ages."

"We were just talking, kiddo."

"Bout what?" I asked, curious as to what they were talking about, positive it was about me.

"Close you eyes, honey." His voice came out in a sleepy hush.

"Soda?"

"Shh... sleep," he whispered, placing a kiss to the top of my head. I sighed lightly, wanting to try asking again, but instead I closed my eyes feeling them getting heavy with sleepiness.

"Night, Soda." I whispered, followed by a wide, tired yawn.

"Goodnight, honey." Within seconds his breathing became lighter, not even a minute later I felt myself drift into the nights welcoming sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

...

Bella Lilac

A/N - Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews, your support is much appreciated. Bella.


	21. Bring In The Reinforcements

Days passed with me just bumming around the house, or down at the DX hanging with Soda, or as Steve put it, "Stop bothering us, kid. Some people around here have work to do, go find someone else to annoy." Sometimes... no, actually more accurate - _most_ times, Steve can be a real ass; I wasn't there to see him anyway.

I'd just hang out and talk with Soda as he worked on the cars, or operated the pumps. Some days they had days less busy than others - on those days he'd let me help him with the car he was working on. I liked helping him with the cars - even if I'm not as good with them as he is, and if I didn't get something, he'd drop what his doing to come over an' show me - but he doesn't mind. Soda never minds.

Well today wasn't much less like the others. Right now I am laying sprawled out across the middle of our living room floor, with Elvis playing full blast from the record player, and the television set turned on with no sound only the picture playing. I'm on my stomach, with my legs swinging in the warm house air as the speakers blare out, '_Hound Dog_'. I rest my head on my folded over arms, shutting my eyes; feeling the music running right through my body, as the floor beneath me vibrates with the sound.

Both Darry and Soda have today off. Darry never works on a Sunday, no wait... that's not right, not even close to the truth - the fact is, Darry never stops working ever, not even on his days off - what I meant to say was, he doesn't work at his roofing job on Sundays, and Soda didn't have any shifts rostered on for today.

Darry always said there was never enough hours in the day, for all the cleaning and mending that had to be done around this house. He left before saying he was taking the truck to grab some supplies, and that Soda had better have the lawn mowed by the time he gets back and started on the shed - it looks as though a tornado had gone through that back shed - there are car parts and tools thrown everywhere out there.

And me... well, I'm suppose to be cleaning our bedroom - you could say that after the tornado hit the shed it went straight for our room. I know it was partly my fault, well... maybe a little more than partly - but even so - it's more a mess than a couple days ago. Aside from a couple of books standing upright on the chest of drawers, everything else has been tossed carelessly one side of the room to the other.

Like I said, I knew Darry'd be at me again soon to get it cleaned, and today happens to be the day. But one look in there could even make a professional cleaner dizzy, and that's why I'm laying out here. I know I'm gonna cop it when Darry gets back, but his not back yet, and it's been about 40 minutes already.

My thinkin' about the dreaded mess I'm gonna have to clean sometime in the near future is automatically wiped from my mind, as I hear the flyscreen door swing open, then slam shut again. I opened my eyes in a panic, thinkin' Darry's gonna ground me a life time for not cleaning that room. But then breathed a sigh of relief, that it had been only Two-Bit.

"You can do anything but lay off of my Blue suede shoes..." Two-Bit sang in an over obnoxious loud voice to '_Blue Suede Shoes_' that was now blaring through the speakers, as he came into the house stopping just in front of me. "Hey, whatcha doin' down there, kid?"

"Nothin'."

"Hmm, that sounds fun... next time you'll have to schedule me in for that." He said with one of his goofy grins, and leant down to ruffle my hair.

"Hey!" I swatted his hand away, then unsuccessfully tried to fix my hair as he headed into the kitchen, returning a second later with a six pack of beer.

"Why don't you come out with us, kid?" He asked, standing over me whilst glancing down at me as I lay on the floor; as he balanced the Budweiser's under one arm, against his right rib cage.

"Nar, maybe later."

"Suit yourself, kid. You know where to find us." He said, stepping over the top of me and resumed singing - if you could call it that... most would probably class as an extremely unpleasant noise - along to Elvis, "You can burn my house, Steal my car, Drink my liquor, From an old fruitjar..." as he headed out the door.

I had only just shut my eyes, when the flyscreen swung open again, but with more force then before - hitting against the side of the house with a bang, before slamming closed. I opened my eyes, turning my head to see who'd come in, and groaned inwardly as a not-so-happy Soda was coming my way.

He walked right past me, heading in the direction to the record player.

"Soda." I whined, as he shut the music off.

"Don't you Soda me." He scolded, coming over to me, and folded his arms across his chest. "Have you even started on the room yet?"

I ignored his question, asking my own. "Did Two-Bit tell you?"

"No he didn't, I asked him what you were doin'. So have you started?"

I swallowed hard as I shook my head 'no' against my folded over arms, my warm cheek pressing against the fine hairs of my skin; and looked up at him out the corner of my eye.

"Pony-" he started to scold, but I cut him off, "What, if you'd have looked in there properly, you wouldn't know where to start either." I said gettin' a little mouthy.

"Get up." He said rather firmly. I gave him a quick glance from the corner of my eye again as I hesitated, but didn't move. "Ponyboy, get up." He repeated, but this time in a I'm-not-joking tone.

I got up slowly from the position I had been on the floor, and nervously stood in front of him, wondering what he'd do. He unfolded his arms, placing a hand to my upper arm.

"What do you think Darry would say, if he'd come home to find you there, an' the room still a mess?" he asked, whilst holding my eye contact.

I averted my eyes towards the ground, and mumbled, "I don't care." Even though I knew I really did, I knew Darry'd be yelling his head off at me right now, and that half the neighbours down the street would be able to hear him.

"Well, maybe you should," his hard tone, causing me to glance back up at him. "Cause he'd tan your backside good, especially for this attitude you got."

I huffed, and glanced away, "Well, maybe it's a good thing he ain't here then." I mouthed back.

He increased his grip on my arm, "Ponyboy, that's enough."

I looked back at him. "What, I didn't do anything." I argued back.

"Yeah, you got that right. You haven't done anything," he said firmly, then paused before adding. "I want you to get straight in that room, an' start cleaning before Darry gets home."

"If you want it done so bad, then why don't you do it yourself." I shot back, then clamped my hand over my mouth; the moment the words left my mouth, I knew instantly it was the wrong thing to say. "Soda I'm-" I swallowed hard, and was about to apologise profusely, but the words never made it to my mouth as Soda roughly tugged my arm.

"Come here." His voice somewhat calm; a polar opposite to his body language, he roughly jerked my arm again, then forcefully turning me to the side.

"Soda don't-" I started, but was immediately cut off, as he landed a harsh swat to my backside, then followed with another three. I cried out as the force of the swats projected me forward. Then he roughly turned me back to face him.

"Ponyboy, I do not appreciate that kind of attitude from you, you should know better than to ever talk back like that," he scolded, taking on his parental tone, "Now, I want you to get straight in that room, and start cleaning." He said before releasing my arm. I nodded not meeting his eyes, and wiped at the escaped tears from my cheeks.

I noticed him letting out a slight sigh, as he took in my teary eyed features; before pulling me into a hug. I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, and buried my head against his chest, as he rubbed my back. I could feel his hot breathe, as he rested his head at the top of my hair. "Shh... it's alright now," he soothed, rubbing my back. I dried my tears on the front of his shirt, as he calmed me. I felt his arms loosen from around me before letting go.

"Alright... off you go," he said, lightly. I looked at him through teary eyes, before dropping them to ground and turning, slowing making my way to my room.

As I reached the doorway of mine and Soda's shared room, I looked at the mess before me, and couldn't help but think - _where do I start_. I'd always heard this saying - a made bed always makes the room feel clean, so I figured that's where I'd start. I practically jumped from spot to spot over the mess cluttering the floor and over to the bed, then threw Soda's sleep pants and my old navy tank top I'd tossed on there this morning to the floor. I pulled up the top sheet levelling it to the pillows then rounded to the end of the bed, taking the end of the quilt cover in my hands giving it a rough shake, and watched as it fell a little off centred across the bed, then climbed up onto the bed and crawled carefully across it, trying not to crinkle the covers to much again, and straightened the pillows at the top of the bed. I climbed off and stood back to admire my handiwork - sure it looked better than it did, but I don't know if I'd go as far as saying it made the room feel clean - cause from where I was standing, it looked as though a time bomb had gone off.

I bent down and shoved the clutter around my feet underneath the bed, then admired the small clear area of the warn grey carpet, that seemed to have worked the trick, and went around the bed and shoved anything approximately two foot around the bed under it.

I looked at the clear space around the bed; it somewhat reminded me of a small trail leading around the rocky mountains, and I was the mountaineer trying to clear away all the overgrown shrubbery. Next I hunted around pulling any lost books I could see from the mess, and standing them upright on the chest of drawers. As my journey continued I heard the front fly screen open with Darry's voice calling through the house. _Crap_, I hurriedly threw open the wardrobe door and tossed anything I could get my hands on onto the wardrobe floor, least I was making some good progress. The warn carpet was now taking over the battle, with its dirty grey colour appearing in a great amount on the floor.

I heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall, and started throwing things in faster, but was relieved when I heard another door down the hall open instead. I glanced around the room, it was now almost half and half, with the carpet coming out in front, but the battle must go on if we wanna win this war. I'm not sure when the scene turned from a mountaineers adventure to a war battlefield... but still, a war is a war.

I turned my head to the door as the footsteps from a few minutes ago grew closer to my bedroom door, and the doorknob turned with Darry poking his head in.

"How's this room comin' along, Pony?"

I glanced around me again, "Well... the clutter seems to be good soldiers, their putting up a pretty good fight. But the carpet and me are working hard to win this battle."

Darry looked at me like I'd grown two heads, then shook this head. "I don't really care who wins, just as long as this mess gets cleaned." I heard another set of footsteps coming down the hall just as Darry was closing the door.

"How's the kid goin', is he gettin' the room done?" Soda's voice asked.

"Umm... yeah, but I think his turned the room into a battle ground." Darry said slowly, like he was trying to make sense of what he was saying.

"What?" I heard Soda's confusion as I did Darry's chuckle as his heavy footsteps left back down the hall. Then the bedroom door opened again, with Soda appearing this time.

"Hey kiddo, what's this I hear about a battle ground."

"Oh, it's nothin' Soda," I laughed, waving him off, then turned back to the mess and picked up an old pack of football cards we use to collect as kids and tossed them onto the wardrobe floor.

"Do you remember when we used to collect those?" I heard Soda asked from behind me, but my brain didn't register what he was referring to.

"What?"

"Those football cards, remember when we use to collect them?"

I did remember that clearly. I was maybe six or seven, and didn't understand football too well at the time. I remember the loose cards coming in a sealed pack, so it was almost a lucky dip on what cards you received. But what I remember most clearly is that as I ripped my pack of cards open Darry was right beside me in an instant, scanning over my cards closely as I looked through them. And with me being too young to know who any of the players were he took advantage of that - trading all his favourite players from my pack with ones he didn't want from his - even if I already had that card he traded me. I ended up with lots of doubles after that and what had to be the worst players on the teams.

"Yeah, I remember that." I said, still thinking about that time, that felt oh so long ago now.

"Remember how Darry would take all your good players, and give you the ones he didn't want?" Soda asked, exactly as I had been thinking - I'm sure sometimes, that I swear he could read my mind.

"Yeah, I remember." Just as my answer left my mouth, Darry rounded the corner of our door and stepped into the room. We both looked up as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"Hey Darry, what's up?" Soda asked, watching our older brother.

"I forgot to tell you boys. I ran into ol' Gary while I was down the street, and he mentioned their short on men down at the warehouse tonight, so asked if I could come in."

After a moments pause, Soda spoke up. "Ok, and what did you tell him?"

"I told him I'd be there. So Soda that leaves you in charge, and Ponyboy you'd better mind him," he said eyeing me, before he continued. "Soda there's some leftover mince from last night, and make sure the boys don't get too rowdy if they come by. Got it?"

"Yeah, got it Darry. And you can stop worrying, I've been left in charge many a times."

Darry turned his direction towards Soda. "Yeah, I know you have," he said, before pausing. "Well, I gotta be leaving here by five," he started towards the door, before turning his head in my direction now, "And you better behave, Ponyboy," he warned.

"I will, Darry."

"Good," he said eyeing me, before turning out the door. As his heavy footsteps went further from the room, I turned around to face Soda whom was still standing behind me.

"Well, it looks like it's just you and me tonight, kiddo."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, don't sound too excited about it." Soda laughed, then leaned over to ruffle my hair.

"Hey, quit it Soda." I scowled, batting his hand away from my hair, and tried unsuccessfully to pat it back down.

"So, what do ya wanna do tonight? Should we get the boys over?"

I shrugged, looking up at him. "Yeah, if ya want. Aren't they still here anyway?"

"Nar, left a little after Darry got home."

I nodded, turning back towards the wardrobe, to try finish cleaning up. Soda left saying he'd leave me to it. And it was back with just me and what was left of the mess. I glanced around me, nothing more had been touched since Darry and Soda had come in, and a little less than half the floor was still covered. If this were a real war, I'd be calling in the battle troops for more reinforcements, cause my men would've all been either shot or injured by now.

I stayed in there for the next hour or so, cleaning the floor spotless - but I couldn't say much for under the bed or the wardrobe floor. I just feel for the next person that comes in here needing to find something.

...

Bella Lilac

A/N - Elvis Presley 'Blue Suede Shoes'


	22. Too Late To Apologise?

I ventured out to the lounge room to find it empty, but heard voices coming from the kitchen so continued my way into the next room. As I rounded the doorway, Soda stopped his conversation mid-way through, taking note as I came in.

"How did ya go?" he asked. He was sitting at the kitchen table with his chair pulled out to the side, and another chair pulled out but not as far from the table, with his feet resting on it.

"Yeah, done," I answered, walking across the kitchen to Darry by the bench. "What'ya makin', Darry?" I asked, before noticing a white dinner plate that sported a slight chip on the rim, full with Peanut butter &amp; Jelly sandwiches. I slid up on the counter beside the plate, snatching the top sandwich from the pile.

"Hey," Darry said from beside me, slapping my thigh. "Wait till I put them on the table." I gave him a cheeky grin, taking a bite from the P &amp; J and chewed it slowly in front of him before swallowing, then flashed him a cheesy smile. He returned me with a shake of his head, but I caught the slight smirk on his face as he turned to place the lunch in the middle of the round wooden table.

"He sure has alotta cheek in 'im, ain't he Darry?"

Darry scoffed, "Yeah, and he gets it from you."

"Hey," Soda yelled, "I feel officially insulted by that." But the wide smile he held, told me he was only joking. But I jumped down from the counter top anyway, giving him a playful punch in his bicep.

"Well, I feel officially insulted by your comment." I joked, as I took another bite from my sandwich.

Soda pulled a mock shocked face, turning to Darry. "Did you see that, Dar? Did you see what our little brother just did to me?"

"Yeah, well you were asking for it little buddy." By the smirk Darry threw Soda from across the table, I could easily tell where this was going, but stayed firmly planted to the right side of Soda waiting for his next move. I knew I had the option of walking away and winning this round. But I also knew Soda would get payback sooner or later. But the main reason I didn't walk away, was 'cause it was just too much fun messing with my brothers like this, and we didn't nearly do it often enough.

Soda turned his shock to a full on puppy pout, and I just had to laugh at his craziness, at seeing my seventeen-year-old brother giving my twenty-year-old brother that puppy look. That was normally my card to pull, and I'd hate to say - it almost always works.

"Is that so..." Soda asked, turning his head slowly towards me, "I think I might need to teach little bro here how to respect his elders." He said as serious as he could manage seeing he was trying to hold back his laughter. But then I couldn't help myself with my next comeback.

"Yeah, you are looking pretty old there, Soda," I laughed glancing towards his hair, then pointed at a random spot on his head. "What's this, a grey hair I see?"

And with that Soda shot up from his seat, as I took off running in the opposite direction, he caught me mid tackle, landing us both down hard on the lounge room carpet. He rolled me over pinning both my arms above my head, as I tried to wrestle from his grip - and with that he gave no mercy - his free hand ran down my sides and under my arms.

"Soda," I screamed, laughing, as he continued his tickle rampage. His hand moved from my rib cage to under my chin, "No, Soda," I screamed again, as I squirmed in his grip. I had tears in my eyes now from laughing so hard.

"Darry, help..." I squealed, hoping to get some backup. Cause as it looked I was fighting a loosing battle. I never heard Darry come in, but I heard his gruff voice come from towards the doorway.

"I don't think so, kiddo. You've brought this one on yourself."

"Soda, Stop..." I screamed again, as he started running his fingers down my rib cage again.

"Alright, Soda. That's enough." Darry said, as he advanced towards us. Soda dug his fingers in my ribs one last time, before giving into Darry's command. My ribs ached from laughing so hard, but even after he stopped I still couldn't stop, it seemed my laughing must have been infectious, as Soda sat up beside me laughing right along with me - or, at me, which I wasn't quite sure.

"Alright, you two. Come finish your lunch." Darry said, as I pulled myself into a sitting position next to Soda, he swung his arm up over my shoulders pulling me in for a hug.

"Next time you'll know not to mess with your big brother, huh?"

I looked to my brother beside me with a smirk; who looked rather pleased with himself, and answered, "Sure, Soda," as Darry leaned down, placing his large calloused hand under my arm, and pulling me to my feet.

As I started my way back towards the kitchen, I couldn't help myself as I turned back to face Soda with a large grin, "Maybe it ain't 'em grey hairs you gotta worry 'bout, maybe it's 'em wrinkles." I laughed, turning back for the kitchen again, but as I did I heard running footsteps coming up behind me, and ran into the kitchen to get away from whoever was behind me, as I reached the table I felt a hard slap to my backside, as Soda ran past me round the other side of the table.

"And... you got anymore to say, kiddo?" he challenged raising his eyebrows, with a grin.

I gave him my best puppy pout like he had done before with Darry, but I knew it mostly always worked on Soda. I noticed his smile soften, as he came round my side of the table, and pulling me into a hug. "Maybe we should eat something, before Darry gets more grey hairs. What do ya reckon?"

"What was that, Soda?" Darry's gruff voice asked, with his tall frame taking up most the doorway.

"Umm... nothin', Darry." Soda gave Darry his widest smile, dimples showing an' all. If anyone can get away with anything it's Soda, especially when he flashes that smile.

"I'd think not," he said eyeing Soda, then gestured to the sandwiches on the table. "Alright, finish your lunch, then do up the dishes once your done. I'm gonna go grab a shower and get ready for work." Darry turned, and left for the bathroom.

I looked at the sandwiches left over on the plate, and grabbed the closest one to me, taking a large bite from the crusted corner section. As I bit into my lunch again, I watched Soda take one for himself. After silently eating for a few minutes I shoved the last piece into my mouth than gathered up any dishes setting them on the side of the sink, and filled the sink with hot sudsy water, placing the first dish into the bubbly water.

"Hey Soda," I called as I scooped a handful of soapsuds up, and turned my head towards him, whilst trying to hold back my smirk. As he glanced over at me, I added, "Com'er." He pulled the tea towel from the oven rail it hung over, as he came towards the kitchen sink. Soda didn't even have time to react as I brushed the suds down the side of his face. He quickly wiped it off with the palm of his hand as I burst out laughing.

"Why, you little... I'm gonna get you now." And that was my cue to run again. I bolted from his reach round the other side of the kitchen table, and watched him intently for his next move.

Soda eyed me with a smirk, as he crooked his forefinger signalling for me to come to him, "Com'er."

I shook my head, with a smirk of my own. We were both standing one on each side of the table, waiting for the other to make the first move. It almost reminded me of an ol' Wild West movie, as a high noon standoff takes place. Both cowboys stand their ground as they face one another, their legs splayed as they place a fair distance between themselves, and with that they each draw their guns only being too stubborn for whom will go first.

Without so much as a warning, Soda suddenly darted to his left, rounding on my side. At that moment I was silently thankful for track practice, and my undoubtedly quick reflexes that came into play as I bolted to my left. I noticed Soda suddenly stop as he spun on his heels, and rounding to the right, heading directly towards me. I stopped dead in my tracks, doing the same. It was like we were playing a game of cat and mouse.

We were now on either ends of the table again, with Soda fast approaching. In a hurried glance over the kitchen countertops I spotted one of Darry's old coffee mugs beside the sink, I hastily grabbed at its ceramic handle filling it with the dish water. And did something I knew there'd be serious consequences for later on. I spun around, as Soda was rounding on me and tossed the sudsy water from the cup, hitting him square in the face. As he was busily wiping the water from his face with his sleeve, I dropped the mug and bolted for the front door - hearing the unmistakable sound of breaking china behind me.

"Hey, get back here!" I heard his angry call after me, but I didn't stop. I raced down the front porch steps, and threw open the old wire gate. I knew as soon as I stepped foot back in that house, that things will not go good for me, that I was in a great amount of trouble. But at that moment, at that very moment as my feet hit the pavement I didn't care. I ran down that sidewalk, like I would have in a great track meet and didn't stop till I could feel the pain rise in my chest, and fell leaning against an old brick wall - a wall that I knew was almost five blocks from home. As I glanced up I realised for the first time since stopping, that I had ran, ran to where I had been not so long ago - so very few nights ago - that I had been here with my brother, walking along this very same path, as we had meet those girls out front the burger place. Though those nights now felt very so long ago.

_What was I thinking?_ Yeah, sure it was a haste of the moment thing, but even I'll admit it was pretty stupid. Soda was my brother... sure we had been fooling around, but in the end I realised as I was standing here, that I had taken things too far. As I leaned away from the wall I knew I needed to apologise, and make it a good one at that. I watched as a red Corvette with white walled tyres drive by, with its soft top pull down. It stopped at a red light, then turned right at the intersection.

I strolled down the sidewalk passing by the store fronts, glancing at the window displays every now and then. When I spotted a couple of girls out the front of the very same burger joint Soda and I had eaten at, and that brunette waiter - Anita or something along those lines - had slipped me her number, I never did get calling her though. As I was passing by the restaurant, I took notice of the girls that seemed to be in a rather deep conversation along with high pitched giggles coming from the blonde one.

As I was watching them, the girl that had been doing most the talking turned her head, I noticed she had stopped taking, with her eyes studying me. I was almost to the next shop, when I heard the fast walking sound of click-clack-click-clack coming up behind me. Then I felt a soft hand land on my upper arm.

"Excuse me?" A soft feminine voice spoke from behind me, and I turned to face the girl that had been talking with her blond friend.

"Yeah?" I asked, curious as to what she had stopped me for.

"Well, I know we've never met, but do you know Annette?" she asked, as her eyes continued studying me.

Annette? I couldn't think of anyone I knew by that name. Even from my school I couldn't remember anyone with that name.

"No, I don't think so..." I answered, with furrowed brows searching my brain for anyone with that name, then it clicked, the waiter that handed me the note her name was Annette. "Umm... actually I do, well I only met her one time. But it's the girl that works in that burger place, right there." I nodded towards the building beside us.

She glanced across to the building I had referred to, as a soft smile feel across her lips. "Thought so," she said, then called across to her friend. "Cynthia, it's him." Without a moments hesitation, the second sound of clacking heels came across the pavement, then stopped beside her brunette friend.

"Hi, I'm Cynthia." She smiled sweetly, as she twirled her waist length blond in her fingers. I could feel a blush creeping up on my cheeks, as I nervously chewed on my lower lip. "I don't know if my friend introduced herself, but that's Nancy." She said glancing at her friend briefly, as she continued twirling her hair.

"I'm Ponyboy, but most people call me Pony. So umm... you know Annette?" Stupid question I know, but I couldn't think of anything else to ask. And it seemed like the most logical one.

I noticed the slight exchange the girls gave each other, before Nancy spoke. "She's a friend of ours, we go to the same school together." _Great_... hopefully they don't try and ask why I never called - I really don't have a reason for it - but truth be told I kinda forgot after the shooting an' everything that's happen.

I rubbed the back of my neck, awkwardly, trying to think of something else to say. I'm not used to making conversation with girls, that's more Soda's expertise. Not that I don't find these girls attractive or anything - they sure were lookers - but being only fourteen I figured I still had a while, before being more serious about the girl thing.

"You waiting for her finish work, or something?" I asked, taking another glance towards the restaurant that - after being reminded her name - Annette works at.

Cynthia swept her blond locks that feel across her left arm, to flow behind her back. "She finishes in fifteen, then where going to a friends party later, and..." she stopped briefly, turning to her friend, they seemed to be having a silent conversation between themselves before Cynthia turned back to me. "Do you wanna come to the party?" she asked, but upon noticing my hesitation, she added. "It's just gonna be a small gathering, nothin' really too big. And Annette will be there." She gave me those electric blue eyes, with a flutter of her lashes, "Please..."

"Alright." _What the hell am I doing?_ I was already going to be in enough trouble from Soda when I got home, I shouldn't be needing to add anymore to my now growing list - first the water incident, then taking off when both my brothers were still present and Soda to be in charge, and now to add to that list a party - I may not have been in so much trouble if I had returned straight away, but it's been hours now.

And who in their right mind would have been able to resist those eyes, I didn't have it in me to tell her no.

Half an hour later, and I was now strolling along the sidewalk kicking an' old soda can - with the dread of the party that I can't back out of, and how many different methods Sodapop might kill me with, afterwards - running through my head. After talking to those girls, I'd left with the address for the party scribbled across my forearm, and my first possible date for the night.

Late afternoon breezes were now sweeping through, bringing another warm summers day to a halt with the come of nightfall trying to break through. Brilliant shades of pinks and oranges cut through the fading blue sky, bringing the golden ball of fire to its knees. The only other sounds by far - besides my sneakers slapping the pavement - were the occasional car passing, the rustling of branches and leaves from above as the breeze brushed through the trees swaying the branches ever so slightly, and the far off barking of a dog.

My mind seemed far off as I thought about tonight. Sure she said it would only be a small gathering, but either way big or small - I knew I was signing myself a death wish, fine print on the dotted line and all - when Soda eventually got a hold of me. Seeing as how he was already going to be angry with me for running off, and trying to bathe him with the dish water. It's like I just can't help myself, what's that saying - "little things make big things happen." Sounds like the quote of my life, it always starts off small, but then it grows and grows, till it's eventually like one giant disaster. I'm sure whoever came up with that quote hadn't meant it quite like that, but with how I wanna see it, it fits perfectly.

I gave the soda can a swift kick sending it out onto the road, with it stopping just bare inches from the white dotted line that separates the passing lanes. With my mind still on tonight, I never heard the calling of my name or the fast paced walking behind me.

I stopped, feeling a rough grab to my arm. "Hey Curtis, what'er doin' man?" I knew that voice; but he was almost definitely the last person I needed to see. If there was anybody on the planet that'd get me into more trouble, it was him.

I hesitantly turned to my left to see him drinking a Budweiser, before he brought the bottle away from his lips, then held it inches from his chest.

"Hey Curly, ain't much. What you doin' this side'a town?"

He tilted his bottle again, before answering. "You know man, just hangin' try'na bust some action." As I took in his features, I could see that he looked troubled; though Curly's never one to really share his feelings, or even come close to giving you a chance to even read what his thinking. His expressions stay hard, like his big brothers - if one must say, you can have the privilege of showing the world your poker face, but once the games over and the worlds asleep, the hardness washes away showing your true feelings - but even without that tough exterior cracking, I could see something had happened.

I nodded, "Is everything good, man?"

He shot his eyes towards mine, then quickly flicked them looking over to his right, taking a fast swig from his bottle. "Everything's good," he replied, as he swallowed the liquor. "Everything's good."

I knew it was best not to ask further, and clapped him on the back. "Let's get outta here, man." We continued down the sidewalk the only sound being the out-of-time steps of our shoes on the pavement. As I glanced over to Curly, I could easily - through I said he'd never give anyone the time or day to read what his thinking - see he had troubled thoughts running through his mind. It was only a matter of time before it all came out. He brought the bottle to his lips one last time, draining it, before pitching it into someone's overgrown bush on their front yard.

"You know you really think you know somebody..." he suddenly said, before kicking a stone out to the tarmac and watching it skitter across. I looked at him unsure of what to say. "You really figgin' think you know somebody." He repeated, but more angrily this time. "I'd bet... I'd make a damn good bet, if you got hurled in by the fuzz your brothers would bail you right?"

"Yeah, I guess." Not that I was looking to go to jail anytime soon, or anywhere in the near or far future. My brothers would kill me before I even stepped foot into the cell - well maybe not literally kill me, but I'm sure it would be close enough to - either way, like I said I ain't planning on doing anything stupid enough to land me in jail.

"Your damn lucky you know, so damn lucky to have brothers who won't turn their backs on you, who won't leave you in a friggin cell to rot." He turned, facing me. "You wanna know what Tim said to me... what my own bastard of a brother said?" he didn't wait for my reply, as his voice rose, "He said, he ain't bailing me out, if I'm stupid enough to get caught... you know that's what he said, my own bastard of himself brother, told me I'm on my own if I get caught. That's what family's for, huh, that's what family's for. To leave you to rot the hell in jail." He gave another stone a hard kick, before starting down the footpath again, as I jogged to catch up to him.

Even though Curly could sometimes be an ass to his elder brother and sister, I knew he looked up to Tim, that he admired his big brother, wanting nothing more than to be like him. And I'm sure it crushed him, just hearing those words. That his brother could let go of him, and just abandoned him without so much as a blink of an eye.

As we continued down the sidewalk the silence between us was almost deafening, with the weight of what Curly had said weighing in the pit of my stomach. I had nothing I could say to lighten this situation - cause truth is, I knew someday Curly would land himself in prison, it was only a matter of time - the question was, when? But I never believed for a minute that Tim would do that - as he practically raised the kid - but maybe there was some point in their lives that they just had to let go, and make it on their own... though I don't believe that either, as even if Tim ain't watching Curly it'll be one of the other boys from the Shepard's gang watching out - like our gang, we always watch out for our own.

"Maybe it ain't-" I started as Curly held his hand out stopping me.

"Check this out..." he said walking up to a large gate, the solid iron bars running from the top rung to the lower giving an indication that these people mustn't like visitors, and the ugly ass pit-bull guarding just behind the gate was an even clearer indication.

He gave one of the bars on the gate a solid kick, with the dog eyeing him with a slight snarl; before crouching down and eyeing the dog on the other side of the gate. He reached over to his left grabbing at a reasonably sized stick from the edge of the footpath, strumming it along the iron bars from one side then back again; taunting the pit-bull.

"Curly, I don't think that's such a good idea man." I said, taking a hesitant step back as the mutts snarling increased; it's lips were curled menacingly baring it's teeth, as those furious, hard eyes daring its tormentor to come any closer. But my warning went unheard, broken with the light wind as the night began rolling in taking over another warm summers day.

"You know this mutt could be useful..." Curly said, still eyeing the threatening animal. "You know if we used him in a rumble, he'd be our front an' centre man, those Soc's wouldn't know what hit 'em." He dropped the stick to the pavement, but didn't move. "He'd tear 'em to shreds, an' they wouldn't know what hit 'em." He said the last part more to himself, rather than to me; like he was believing what he was saying is true. I just pray his not thinking of doing anything stupid, along the lines of - breaking, entering, stealing - grand dog theft. If he doesn't want to end up in jail; that'd definitely be a guaranteed head start there. He stood up from his spot, strolling towards where I hadn't moved from after the dog started showing its teeth.

"C'mon lets get outta here."

"Sorry man, can't do. I got a party to get to."

"Curtis off to a party... why didn't you say so man. What are we waiting for?" Typical of Curly inviting himself, but no one said I couldn't have guests. Right?

...

Bella Lilac

A/N - Thank you to anyone who added this story to their 'favourites and/or follows', and thank you for all your lovely reviews - they truly mean a lot. Bella.


	23. Do You Wanna Dance?

A half an hour later we strolled up the front porch steps of the address that had been scrolled on my arm from Cynthia, and pushed open the white painted wooden door; figuring no one would hear us over the loud music if we knocked. My eyes widened slightly at the amount of people - small gathering my ass - the front room, or as some may call it the lounge area, was somewhat overcrowded - whether it be drinking, dancing, talking, and even kissing.

I followed behind Curly as we pushed and shoved through people, most of the kids happened to be around our age somewhere between the fourteen to seventeen range. It felt a little surreal walking into some unknown strangers home, not knowing the names or faces to anyone as I passed them by. I hadn't seen any sign of Cynthia or Nancy yet, or even Annette. If I was truthful with myself I was more than a little relieved that Curly had indeed invited himself, walking in on my lonesome I'd admit would have felt somewhat awkward.

The red bricked home wasn't overly large, like the double story homes the Soc's owned, but wasn't small either. If anything it was just a regular sized home. We passed through the adjoining door from the living room into the kitchen with me a couple of steps behind Curly. It wasn't as overcrowded in here as the front room, but I wouldn't say it was close to being empty either... just not overcrowded. The kitchen was a reasonable size, with a long laminated blench top running in a L shape, finished with teak wooden cupboards. The ray of food that adorned the blench top was nothing to write home about; on the end sat a couple of pizza boxes - whether they still had pizza in them I wasn't sure, but either way, even if there was left over pizza in those boxes it'd be stone cold by now - my guess is the early arrivers ordered them. Joining them sat three different sized bowls with some favour of chips, if the unopened bags of Lay's classic and Doritos tossed on the other end of the bench was anything to go by. In the centre of the room separate from the bench top sat a six seater wooden family table, with a rouge floral table runner down the centre, a top that sat a large clear bowl filled with punch with a plastic scoop spoon, beside that was an open packet of fifty Dixie cups - minus the cups used... but I'm without a doubt this party was more about the booze and good times. Now if only I could find Annette, maybe I could have some good times too...

Sure, like I said before I ain't really into the whole girl thing yet, and much of my experiences with girls has been through Sodapop, but Annette was nice enough at the restaurant not to mention pretty cute... and it's not like I'm asking to go the whole way or anything at all to that extent... a slow dance could be nice, hell maybe even a kiss?

"Here, catch Curtis." Curly drove me outta my thoughts, tossing a beer to me. I was silently thankful for my quick reaction and him being an 'almost' straight shooter, or we would have had a slight mess on our hands - before the drinking even began. Not sure I can say the same after the drinking begins...

I popped the cap on the bottle, taking a heavy drink, and watching from my right as Curly almost mimicked me. I glanced around the kitchen - a couple by the cabinetry looked to be playing tonsil hockey, the girl was pressed up against the pantry door with the guy leaning forwards, one of his arms steadying himself with his open palm pressing against the door above her head, as his other arm wrapped around her waist. Over by the glass sliding door a heated conversation between three guys hadn't let up since walking in here, and everyone else just seemed to be either making small talk, or grabbing a beer from the overly large cooler that had been stocked full then dumped with ice cubes which were on their way to melting, making a small pool of water around the ice cold beer bottles.

We both strolled casually out through to the lounge again, the record player by the far wall pumping The Everly Brothers 'Bye Bye Love' out through the speakers taking over any conversation in the room. I leaned back against the wall behind me, pressing the heel of my right sneaker behind me on the wall.

"Hey, baby!" Curly called to a good lookin' girl, her flowing ruby locks bounced just below her shoulders as she walked past us for the kitchen, she stopped just before reaching the doorframe and turned her direction towards Curly.

"Hey," she smiled, her red lipstick almost matching the redness of her hair. She flipped the lightly curled loose strands just behind her shoulders, with her free hand as her other hand held an empty punch cup. Without another word she turned and continued towards the kitchen, but returning seconds later with not one filled cup, but two.

"Sorry 'bout that, my friend thinks she's gonna keel over if I don't bring her another glass of punch," she laughed gently, coming over to us. "By the way, I'm Robin." she offered a bright smile, looking between us.

"I'm Ponyboy." I offered, almost the same time as Curly spoke.

"Curly," he gave a somewhat half grin. "What d'ya say doll-face, we blow this joint an' get somewhere a lil' more private?"

"Why don't you boys come over an' join us?" she offered instead, "and I better get this drink to Cynthia, she'll probably think I got lost on the way, or something." she laughed softly. I glanced at Curly, knowing exactly whom the name belonged to, and wondered briefly if everyone here knew everyone, and was it just us that didn't?

"Sure why not?" I answered, still looking at Curly.

He gave a brief nod, "Lead the way, angel."

We only made it a quarter the way across the room before Cynthia came towards us from the other direction. "Robin, did you get me-" she stopped short as her blue eyes landed on me, "Hey Ponyboy, you made it." She was still in the same outfit as she had been earlier on; an unbelievably short mini dress in a bright aqua, with a belt in the matching fabric, tied around her waist with the long ends almost touching the hem of the dress, complete with white strappy heels. I watched as her eyes flicked across to Curly, with a slight curious look as to who his is.

I could feel a slight blush creeping up. "Yeah, hey Cynthia. That's my buddy, Curly." I let my eyes fall from her across to Curly, whom was studying her with a raised brow and somewhat seductive smirk.

"Hey doll, how ya know this ugly mug?" Curly asked, jerking his thumb towards me.

She laughed lightly, "I've seen him 'round," she answered, with a wink to me. Well I suppose it was the truth, even though we'd only just meet not even a couple hours back; but even so, I went with her answer. Curly can just think we've know each other, for however long he wants to think.

"Sure, honey." Curly answered, finishing off his beer, "I'm gonna go grab another beer, you want one Curtis?"

"Sure."

Robin passed Cynthia her punch, as Curly left for the kitchen. We waited for Curly to return with two bottles of Budweiser's, he handed one to me as I skulled the rest of my first one. Then made our way over to the rest of their friends. On an expensive looking beige, three seater, suede lounge sat four teens, maybe between fifteen - sixteen, and perched on the low suede arm was Annette, her waist length silky brunette locks curled loosely on the ends, hanging carefully over one shoulder. I let my eyes travel upwards from her white go-go boots to her purple with blue, yellow and pink floral, high neck, mini dress. She noticed my stare, giving me a soft smile.

"Hey," she said, her emerald eyes looking at me, as her long lashes blinked softly.

"Hey," I repeated back, unsure of what else to say. I could feel a slight blush returning to my cheeks, and took a quick swig on my beer hoping it'll relax me a little. Standing beside Annette was Nancy in almost the same dress attire as the other girls, except her dress was a hot pink, polka dot bustier with an above the knee full skirt.

I watched as Annette leaned closer to Nancy, and whispered something to her. Nancy nodded and giggled with her eyes falling on me. I nervously chewed my bottom lip, before swigging my beer again. It was giving me a real good buzz, and helping calm my nerves around these girls. I'm sure without the alcohol content in my bloodstream, I don't think I'd even find the courage to say boo to them.

Suddenly Nancy left her spot coming round the front of the couch standing in front of one of the boys that were seated, she held out her hand.

"C'mon Ronnie, come dance with me. I love this song." She said, referring to Roy Orbison's 'Oh Pretty Woman' playing over the speakers.

He glanced around at his mates beside him, "Oh, I don't know, Nanc."

"C'mon, Ronnie. Please." He finally gave in taking her hand, and guiding her towards the other dancers in the middle of the family room. I noticed Annette stand up from her position on the lounge arm, advancing towards me.

"Do you wanna dance?"

I knew I wasn't much in the way of a dancer, if anything I had two left feet. But she wasn't asking me for the Rumba or anything to that extent. Looking at most of the other kids dancing, most of them were just swaying lightly to the music with their arms around each other, and talking or singing along to the song.

"Sure," I said, taking her hand and leading her not to far from where Nancy and Ronnie had their arms around one another, swaying side to side. I placed my arms around her waist as she did mine, and virtually mimicked everyone else.

"So, why didn't you call me?" she asked, as we gently swayed.

I knew the question was going to come up sooner or later; I should have called, but with everything that has happened since then till now... and the shooting - truthfully I kinda forgot. I know it's a pretty poor excuse, well it is and it isn't... but either way I should have remembered.

"I'm sorry, just a lots happened."

"Like what?" she frowned her brows, curiously.

Do I say or not? One thing I can't stand is sympathy, except if it's from my brother Sodapop. I hate running my mouth about injuries or anything along those lines to people I hardly know, it's really not their business. But from what I knew Annette was a nice enough girl, and maybe she already knew about the trouble Soc's gave us, with us getting jumped and all. But if she didn't, and I told her, would she think any less of me? Or maybe she'll be as the girls I've read in my many books; the knight taking on a whole army of men, killing them armed with one sword. She'll fan her cheek as she listens while he goes through telling his story of act of bravery, with her practically fainting in his arms all Juliet style like his her hero or something. Though I knew that wouldn't happen, not in reality... maybe I've read to many medieval fantasy books? But it's nice to dream...

"Do you know of the rich kids, Soc's?"

Her face content with thought for a second. "Hmm, not really. But I think I've heard of them. Why?"

I shook my head, "Doesn't matter." I answered, as our swaying slowly slowed to a stop, with our arms still around one another.

"You can tell me, I won't say nothin',"

I removed my arm from her waist that held my beer, taking a deep drink from the bottle. I was almost finished this one, but was probably gonna be in need of another one or something stronger once I finish re-cashing everything. I started off quietly, mostly just thinking to myself rather than to her. "The rich kids..." I started as I let my eyes drift from her, and across the room; the room was crowded, with kids dancing not even two feet away - but my mind wasn't seeing them, it had blocked out everything around me - even the music that was blaring a second ago, sounded far off - as if a great distance away. "From the west side... their big-time Soc's, alright." My mind came back into focus, with my eyes making contact with hers. "I'm a grease, same as my buddy, Curly. We're both greasers. And my brother Sodapop-"

"The one that came with you to the restaurant?" she asked softly, her green eyes not leaving my green-grey ones.

"Yeah," I spoke softly, wondering if she heard me over the loud music, but when she nodded it confirmed my answer. "We both live with our oldest brother, Darry. His been looking after us ever since our parents accident..." I couldn't say death, it hits home too hard. And I don't really like talking bout it. "Darry dropped everything to look after us, he had good grades and was head of the football team, and would have made it to college if it weren't for us. Soda also dropped out, said he wasn't smart enough; but he ain't right, Sodapop is smart, especially when he puts his mind to something. And Soda understands me, better then most; he'll listen to any problem and make it his effort to fix it. Darry's different, he ain't like that, he ain't like Soda. Darry is hard headed and yells too much, everything I do in his eyes is never good enough, he ain't like that with Soda, and I won't let him either. But he works hard to keep us together, keeps down two jobs while running a household, so I suppose in someway that's something to be thankful of, that we get to stay together."

I broke quietly on that thought, realising I was rambling but also realising Annette's eyes hadn't left mine. Her expression almost saddened, but also held that unwanted look - that look when someone feels pity for you. I didn't need, or want pity or even sympathy. This was my life. And it wasn't going to change anytime soon.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"No don't be... anyway the Soc's like to jump us, mostly cause we ain't like them; that we don't have big houses like them, or the latest trends and drive Mustangs or Corvairs. They'll get us especially if we're walkin' on our lonesome, you know mostly for kicks. And they don't fight fair... they gang up and take down like one on five... it ain't ever fair, you know people can get hurt, my buddies get hurt. Sure we have heaters and blades, but sometimes that ain't enough, you know... people get killed with heaters, and even blades... my buddy Jo..." I trailed off not being able to mention Johnny, it was still too raw to talk about.

"You know it doesn't have to be like that," she spoke gently, her soft eyes sympathetically looking at me. "It doesn't have to be, not all people are like that Ponyboy. You have to believe me, there are still a lot of good people in this world."

"Sure,"

"I'm telling the truth, Ponyboy. I'd never heard any of this until just now, and I'm pretty sure none of my friends have either. Listen I'm not gonna judge you, or your friends on how you live, I'm just saying it could be different."

"I know," I said, and I did. I knew things could have been different, but it's just not that simple. "C'mon lets go get another drink?"

I skulled the last of my beer before we made it to the kitchen. I grabbed another beer from the cooler, feeling quite buzzed already from my last two, and knew it wouldn't be long if I kept this up, remembering anything from the night at all.

"Here, Ponyboy." Annette handed me a shot glass containing a light brown liquid, I looked across to the bench top where a reasonably sized bottle of whiskey sat toward the edge of the counter, with about six other teens huddled by it having bets on who can down the shot the fastest.

"On the count of three," I looked back to Annette noticing her holding out a glass almost identical to mine, I held my glass out in front of me almost like we were going to do cheers, and waited for her to count. "One... two... three... skull..."

I brought the glass to my mouth, and threw back the entire shot, almost regretting it at once as the harsh liquor burned at the back of my throat. I immediately pop the cap on my beer, taking a long swig to ease the fire in my throat, and noticed everything around me was slightly blurry. I rubbed at my eyes trying to clear my vision, but I couldn't get anything into focus.

"How 'bout round two, you good for another?" Annette asked taking my shot glass.

Before I could answer Annette was over by the counter pouring another two shots. She brought them back, handing me one.

"Alright, should we do on the count of three again?"

"Yeah," my voice slurred.

"One... two... three..."

I tipped back my second shot, downing it immediately with my beer again to ease off the burning, and felt myself sway slightly. I could hear Annette laughing, but for the life of me didn't know what at. But I must say it was pretty infectious as I found myself laughing along with her.

"How 'bout another?" she laughed, and slightly lost her balance and stepped back with one foot to steady herself. She didn't wait for my answer as she stumbled to the bench, before coming back with the same glasses topped up. I threw back the shot, downing it with the last of my beer. I watched as she practically tripped over herself as she crossed the room to the table that held the large plastic bowl of punch, she filled two of the dixie cups and swayed slightly as she clamped her hands around them. As she moved a foot away from the table, she slightly lost her footing making her stumble as some of the punch splashed out onto her hands and to the floor.

My balance wasn't much better, but I crossed the room over to where she was having difficulty standing, to save her from having to bring the drinks across the room. She gave me a thankful look as she passed one of the plastic cups to me, as soon as I took a mouthful I wondered vaguely if it had been spiked; as I knew Annette hadn't touched the beer. Sure she had the shots, but I'd noticed she was slightly unsteady on her feet even before that.

I skulled the punch before I was even able to taste it, and stumbled to the cooler for another beer. As I made my way back to Annette she was downing the last of her punch.

"Wanna another?" she asked, setting her cup on the table.

"Later..." I slurred again, popping the cap on the bottle.

"Do you wanna dance?" she asked, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder to balance herself; it was pretty useless though, as I could hardly stand myself.

"Here?" I asked, confused.

"No silly, out there," she laughed.

"Sure..." I answered, unsure if I'd make it out there.

We somehow made it back out to the family room, by supporting one another. My blurry vision glanced around the room slowly, trying to make out what was happening in the room. The music was still blaring, but my mind couldn't make out what song was playing, and people just seemed to be everywhere. I jumped when I felt a pair of arms snake around my waist, and was almost nose-to-nose with Annette. She leaned in pressing her lips on mine, and I literally froze.

...

Bella Lilac


	24. Sweet Summer Cherry Cocktail

**WARNING: Contains Drugs**

"What's wrong?" she slurred, leaning back as her eyes tried to focus on mine.

I couldn't for the life of me form anymore then a few words in my brain, let alone a full sentence. "Didn't you wanna dance?" I slurred out, hoping my words were somewhat clear.

"Yeah, but we can do this first." she said, pressing her lips against mine again. She moved her mouth against mine, as I relaxed slightly doing the same. It felt nice; no wonder Soda and Steve are always bragging about how good it is. I felt her tongue slide across my lips, as her cherry flavoured lips consumed mine. She tasted a mix of cherry and alcohol; a sweet summer cherry cocktail.

She broke the kiss, leaning back. "Hmm, that was good."

I couldn't agree more, "Sure was..."

She took my hand and led me over to the couch, all the cushions had been taken so I leaned on the arm pulling Annette in against me. On the wooden coffee table sat small bags of white powder, and white lines of that same powder with some rolled up paper bills.

"Hey baby, you want some of the good stuff?" a dark haired guy on the far end cushion asked Annette. He stood up coming around to us. "Here doll, why don't ya try a little?" he pressed a rolled note into her hand, then placed his hands on her hips leading her to the coffee table. I'm sure she was too drunk to realise what she was doing, before crouching down and sniffing a good amount of the powder.

Hell, I was too drunk to realise what I was doing. If I had of been sober, I'd been out that door and across the other side of town. Both Darry and Soda, and not to mention Two-Bit and Steve had given me lectures on drugs, and not to do them. Both my brothers promised if they ever caught me doing it they'd tan my hide.

I lifted my beer bottle up taking a deep swig, as Annette stood up with two of her fingers coated in the white powder. She stood in front of me, as my focus had her swimming in and out of my vision.

"Open..." she slurred, as she tried to stay steady on her feet.

Open what? I returned her with a blank stare unsure of what she meant.

"...your mouth." I obliged, as she slid the two fingers into my mouth, coating the roof of my mouth and under my tongue in the powder. After a few moments my mouth felt really numb, almost the same feeling as when you go to the dentist and they give an anaesthetic to numb your jaw.

The effects didn't take hold until another ten minutes after, but boy when it did, I felt on top of the world; my energy felt endless, and I had a million and one things to say, almost talking off Annette's ear but I don't think she noticed much cause she was laughing and talking just the same. I pulled her out onto the dance floor, our unsteady swaying and spinning overtaking the speed of _Ben E. King's 'Stand By Me'_. I noticed Curly coming from the hallway adjoining onto the living room, holding Robin's hand as she trailed just behind him.

"Hey Curly, man." I yelled over the top of everyone, getting a few looks from the teens around us.

He led his girl over to us, "Hey Curtis, great party man."

I looked to the knock-out red-head beside him, "You score, man?" I asked, as Robin shot me a scowl.

"Hell, yeah!" He grinned, slapping me five, before I felt his eyes on me, feeling uncomfortable when he narrowed them. "You on smack, kid?"

My mind was so messed up I couldn't even start for an explanation, even though my mouth was doing a pretty good job at talking and I couldn't shut up for the life of me - but you know what, I was too drunk to care, and it actually felt kinda good.

"You know your brothers are gonna kick your ass. Right?"

Who was Curly to tell me what to do, he should've been the least person to care; after all his the one that likes to break rules. I lifted my beer bottle, and held it in front of him as he watched at me, then chugged the remaining beer from the bottle.

"Whatever man, don't come cryin' to me when your brothers bust ya one."

He grabbed Robin's hand again, and led her towards the kitchen. That last beer didn't go down well, instantly I felt pale and clammy, knowing what was coming next I bolted for the bathroom. The door was locked, _shit_... if whoever didn't get out of there soon, the returning beer will be all over the bathroom door. I pounded my fists on the door, in a hurry to get in as a males voice called out, "Wait."

I pounded on the white painted wood again, just as the door opened. The guy stepped out, "Geez dude, give a guy a minute." I paid him no attention as I bolted for the toilet, and practically threw myself over the bowl, as everything I drank in the last couple of hours came out - the alcohol burning the back of my throat as it made its return.

"You right, dude?" the same guy asked.

Did I look right? I couldn't answer him though, as I practically had my head down the toilet bowl spilling my guts, with my hands firmly gripping the rim so I didn't fall in.

"I need, Soda," I breathed out, in between waves. I couldn't think of anything else, I needed my brother. He was always there when I was sick.

"Sure dude, I'll see what I can get." He said, then left the bathroom. It never occurred to me then that he hadn't realised I'd meant Sodapop, as in my brother... but rather the beverage.

A moment later I felt a soft hand resting on my shoulder blade. "You ok, Ponyboy?" Annette slurred, as she rubbed my back a little.

"Hmm..." I groaned, as another wave hit, almost sending me headfirst into the bowl. I felt tears slip from the corner of my eyes, and my throat burned something awful. "Soda, I need Soda," my voice sounding a slurred moan.

"Your brother?" she asked, gripping me to keep me from falling further in. At least one person understood.

"Hmm...," I groaned again, and nodded my head; realising that was a bad move, as my skull gave a violent throb. I immediately let one hand go from the rim, gripping my forehead and heard some shuffling to my right, I leaned up enough to see Annette rummaging through her handbag, pulling out a pink glitter pen and an old shopping docket.

"Number?" she slurred, straightening the paper the best she could out on the bathroom floor, with a shaky grip on the pen.

"What?" I asked confused, trying to rub some of the pain from my head.

"Your brothers number?"

Oh, at least that's one thing I didn't have to think about, I knew that number as well as I could recite my ABC's - although I don't think that was a very good comparison, cause in the state I was in I don't think I'll be reciting my alphabet anytime soon, let alone getting through the whole 26 letters. I mumbled off our house phone as she scribbled the number on the back of the docket, then left the bathroom.

The guy that had been in here earlier returned with - as I thought, a can of Coca-Cola in his hand, he knelt down beside me, offering the can. "Here, dude." He helped me sit up a little straighter, now that my nausea had passed for the moment, and shoved the can in my hand with the tab already pulled. I took a long gulp, letting it take the awful taste away and cool the back of my throat. Big mistake, I was back over the toilet bowl before I could tell which way was up or down, hurling my guts out again. The tears leaked from my eyes again, as I hung onto the rim for the second time.

After another good ten minutes of hanging my head in the toilet bowl, I slowly made out Sodapop's voice coming through into the bathroom. "Ponyboy... geez kiddo." I felt a strong arm wrap under my mid-section, as the other hand pressed against my forehead holding my head back.

"Soda..." I half sobbed.

"It's alright kiddo, I've gotcha." His voice sounding good to my ears. My head was spinning and I felt so awful I didn't care about anything else now that Soda was here. I felt like I could suddenly just relax and let him take control, he'd know what to do... Soda always knew what to do.

"I'm sorry, Soda. I'm so sorry." I slurred, and groaned as another wave hit. I sure hoped they were ready to have guests for the night; I didn't think I'd be leaving this bathroom anywhere in the near future.

"Shit, kid." Soda said, holding me up so I didn't fall in the bowl. "What did he have?" I heard him ask someone in the room.

"Umm... he had loooots." Annette's voice slurred from somewhere in the room.

"Great, could you be a little more specific?"

"Ahh... yeah... lotsa beer..."

"K, anything else?" Soda asked from above me, as he kept his hold around me.

"Yeah... a couple shots a Whiskey, and a little coke." Annette answered, trying to recall whatever we had drank throughout the night.

I felt Soda's movements stiffen around me as he asked the next question. "Coke as in the drink, or cocaine?" his tone one not to mess with. He held it firm as he spoke, but I could hear him forcing back the anger that was slowly boiling in the pit of his stomach. It reminded me of the calm before the storm.

"Ahh... both, and he had some of the punch." Annette answered, not catching the tone in Soda's voice.

"He had cocaine?" he asked again through gritted teeth, letting some of that boiling anger through with his words. I could hear the clear cut warning in his tone, even through my drunken state. But I guess unlike Annette, I knew Soda and his different expressions on tone - but it didn't always just stop at his tone; he was also good at giving you that warning look with just his eyes. But when his eyes narrowed with that hard look he gives, you've pushed him too far and your chances are you'd better run. I knew it took a lot to get Soda mad, he just wasn't the angry type. But when he was your chances didn't fair well.

"Yeah..." she answered hesitantly, probably catching onto his tone.

"Shit..." he growled, "who in their right mind would give him that... who gave my little brother drugs?" I could hear his breathing quicken as he growled to however was brave enough to stay in the room, Soda hardly ever swore and when he did I knew he was furious. Annette stayed quiet, which was probably for the best. No matter how easy going or happy-go-lucky Soda could be, you didn't wanna mess with him when he was mad. And someone giving his younger brother drugs - whether it was my choice to take them or not - was gonna get him mad... no he was beyond that, he was ready to start pounding someone.

I knew I'd better step in and take the blame, I couldn't stand to see anyone else getting hurt... especially Annette.

"I'm sorry, Soda," I whimpered, through my burning throat. "It was my fault, I'm so sorry."

He was silent for a moment, probably pondering what I'd just admitted. I felt his grip around me tighten, "Who gave it to you, Ponyboy?"

"I don't know, Soda. I swear I don't know... I'd been drinkin' an' I don't know who it was. Please, Soda." I practically begged my brother to believe me, as a few tears slid past my glassy eyes and down my cheeks.

I heard a sharp intake of breath from above me, as Soda crouched down behind me and pulled me back against him, leaning the back my head against his collarbone as he ran his fingers through my sweaty greased back hair. "Alright, do you think you'll be right till we get home?" he asked. I knew the concerned question was regarding whether I was going to be sick again or not, but with how I'd been so far, I couldn't be certain.

I nodded, hoping I could hold off until we at least reached home, not being too fond of the idea of puking my guts up in the car. But my brief moment of thought crumbled as an uneasy roll gave way to my stomach again, I moaned grabbing hold of my unsettled stomach.

"Easy, kiddo, easy." Soda murmured from behind me.

I sat silently still for a moment hoping the oncoming nauseous feeling would subside, as Soda lightly traced my forearm with his fingers, producing a soothing tingling feeling on my bare skin.

"Alright, now?"

I nodded again, feeling my stomach settle for the moment.

"Good, let's get outta here, kiddo." I felt him move carefully from behind me, with him keeping a grip on my upper arm as he stood up, then gently helped me up. We'd only taken a step from the toilet when the guy that had been in here earlier, walked in through the open bathroom door.

"Jay, can you grab 'im a bucket or somethin'?" Annette asked.

"What for? His got the can right in front of him."

"Well his not taking that in the car with him now, is he?" she tried to shoot back, but her speech was still somewhat slurred.

"Might as well, dudes been hogging it long enough!"

"Jay, just shut up. Get a bucket."

"Whatever!" he shot back annoyed, walking back out the door.

"Sorry, he can be a real douche sometimes." Annette apologised, trailing behind us as Soda practically steered me out through the house. As we neared the front door, someone called for us to hold up. Jay rushed towards where we had stopped, holding out a overly used and stained - with possibly pasta sauce - large plastic container.

I felt someone sidle up beside me, and glanced to my left. Annette took my hand in hers and lightly brushed the back of my hand with her fingers, as she leaned in close to my ear. "I'm sorry 'bout the mess, Ponyboy. But it was fun, wasn't it?" she whispered, her warm breath tickling my ear as I could smell that sweet cherry and alcohol aroma coming from her as she breathed close to me.

I nodded, with a smirk. It was fun, hell it was more than fun...

She gave me a small peck on the cheek as Soda took the emergency spew catcher from Jay with a small thanks, before leading me out the door and down to the car - Steve's car I noticed - that he had parked by the edge of the nature strip in a not to neat fashion, with the front tyre edged almost up on the lawn. He took hold of the polished stainless handle on the passenger side, opening the door for me. I climbed into the car seat settling back against the headrest as Soda placed the bucket in my lap, then gently closed the door beside me. Not even a second after his front drivers door opened, with him settling behind the wheel. With a turn of the key he put the car into drive and made a start for the short, but silent journey home.

We pulled up front our house with Soda shooting the car up onto our front nature strip in a semi-fashioned diagonal park. Neither of us uttered a word on the way home. Soda looked as though he had something to say a number of times, I was almost certain it would have been a lecture of some type, but he never got past the point of opening his mouth then shutting it again, in the same fashion as a goldfish. I was somewhat relieved he didn't start in on me in the car, with my dizziness from the beer, and nausea, I didn't feel much like talking, or trying to explain myself - which I knew was coming sooner rather later, though in my condition I'd much prefer the latter, and I certainly wasn't feeling up to being yelled at.

He came round my side, opening the car door like earlier and helped me out. I literally fell against him as I tried to get my drunken legs to walk in a straight line, which didn't look like it was gonna happen anytime soon. I don't know how I managed getting from the bathroom out to the car before, but my legs didn't seem to be cooperating with me this time. Soda gave up trying to hull me up the old pathway, and tucked one hand under my knees with his other behind my back, lifting me cradle like in his arms.

"Soda," I whined, with my lower lip protruding in a pout.

"Don't you Soda me, kiddo," he scolded. He carried me in through the front door, across the lounge into the bathroom. He flicked the switch on, illuminating the small room in the bright fluorescent light and set my feet down on the cold tiles.

"Strip," he said, as he reached over pulling the shower curtain across, and twisted the tap heads on.

"Huh?"

"Undress, Ponyboy."

"Why?" I asked, as I struggled to get my arm free from the shirt sleeve.

"Because _you_ my little brother need to sober up." He said, coming to help me. He pulled my t-shirt up over my head, then helped me with my shoes and socks, then unbuttoned my jeans shrugging them down. He helped me step out of my jeans with me almost loosing my balance, he caught my arm, then pushed me into the shower still clad in my boxers.

"It's cold." I screamed, trying to scramble out from the ice cold water. But he kept his palm firmly pressed to my chest holding me under.

"Like I said, you need to sober up."

"But it's cold, Soda." I said, as my teeth started to chatter.

"Yeah, I know."

"But I'm gonna catch pneumonia." I whined.

He chuckled at that, "Your not gonna get pneumonia, kiddo."

"But I might." I tried to reason with him.

"Well now seeing your in a talking mood, you wanna tell me what happened today?" he asked, moving his eyes to mine as he continued to hold me under the cold spray.

"I don't know, Soda. I'm sorry." I gave him a pleading look complete with my puppy dog face, as my teeth continued to chatter.

He sighed, "Alright, I think you've been in there long enough." He turned off the tap heads, draining the ice coldness that had been showering down on my now shivering form. He turned to his right grabbing the navy towel from the towel rack, and draped it over my shoulders, helping me step out of the shower.

"You wanna tell me why you took off this afternoon?" he asked as he rubbed the - washed too many times - crisp material, over my back and chest.

"Can you leave the interrogation for when I'm at least sober?" I mumbled, as my older brother stopped drying mid-rub.

"No, because your not suppose to be drunk in the first place. How many times in the past couple of weeks have we been over this, huh? How many times have Darry and I told you not to drink, you wanna answer me that one?"

"I know... I'm sorry, Soda." I pulled my puppy face into play again.

"Yeah, you will be, kiddo." He said, as removed the semi-wet towel from my shoulders, and held a firm grasp to my upper arm, before I could register what was happening a stinging smack landed to my wet boxer covered backside.

"Oww," I yelled, covering my behind with my free hand. He let his grip go on my upper arm and grabbed my hand instead holding it to the small of my back, then pinned me against his chest to stop my escape before landing another smack on the same cheek.

"Ahh, Soda..." I screamed, gosh it hurt - something about the wetness and making it sting more. He moved onto my other cheek landing another two well placed swats, before placing one on each sit spot.

"That was for taking off this afternoon, we'll finish the rest tomorrow."

If I hadn't sobered up before, I sure was now. My backside was stinging something awful, and to know I was getting more tomorrow... I wiped the tears from my eyes, as more replaced them, and glanced up at Soda.

"Well, you've gotta learn kiddo. You can't be running off an' doin' stuff like this, when Darry and I say no, it means no, and if I recall right I remember someone promising me they'd never touch alcohol again," he raised an eyebrow as he looked at me, "and drugs... you and I are gonna have a good long 'talk' about that one tomorrow," he gave me a firm look, then said, "C'mon lets get you dressed and into bed." I let him lead me to our room, as I kept one hand on my wet behind trying to rub the sting out. It had really hurt - but I knew as much as one thing, it's not as sore as it will be tomorrow. Maybe I can sneak out when Soda's asleep, but I knew he'd only find me or wait till I came back home, and it'd be just that much worse.

"Here put these on, I'm gonna get you some water." He said, handing over my sleepwear, then exited the room. I made sure he was gone before stripping my wet underwear and replacing them with some fresh ones; it's not that Soda's never seen me naked before, hell we're brothers and share the same room for goodness sake - sure it can still be somewhat embarrassing - but in that moment it was more to protect my bare flesh from anymore assault from Soda's hard hand. I threw the rest of my sleepwear on before wiggling under the quilt covers in bed just as Soda walked back in, holding a glass of water.

"Sit up, honey," he said as he settled himself on the edge of the bed. I complied, with him handing me the glass, after downing the refreshing liquid I handed back the glass, and watched as he placed it on the bedside table as I lay my head back on the pillow.

"Alright, close your eyes," he said gently, as he stayed beside me.

"I can't. I'm not tired, Soda." I whined, as I looked up at him feeling wide awake. I couldn't understand why as it was nighttime, and glancing to the clock behind Soda I could see it was getting onto be eleven-thirty.

He sighed, "The drugs are probably messin' with you and keepin' you awake, just shut 'em anyway."

"I can't," I said more stubbornly, looking up at him again; he was watching me rather intently, with his eyes reading my anti-tired features. He carefully reached his left hand out, and lay his hand palm side down across my eyes covering them, forcing me to close them.

"Soda..."

"Shh, go to sleep," he soothed, as he carefully caressed his other hand through my damp hair. "Just relax, and go to sleep."

I couldn't say how long after that it took me to fall asleep, but Soda's hushed whispers and caressing finally put me to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

...

Bella Lilac

A/N - Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, and also to those who favoured/followed this story. Your support is much appreciated. Bella.


	25. A Strip Of Leather

**WARNING: Contains Spanking**

When I woke, I stayed in bed under my warm covers, not ready to face the consequences from the day before that I knew I had coming. There was a slight pounding in the front of my head that I knew would soon turn into a full throbbing if I didn't have aspirin soon, and my whole insides felt as though they'd been through a wringer not to mention the rawness I could feel in my chest leading up to my throat - there wasn't even words to describe how I felt, but to put it simply, I felt crap. Sure we had a good night... now I'm not being honest, I'd have to admit it was an awesome night, but what I don't get is how people do this regularly only to wake up feeling like this. In my opinion, I don't think anythings worth waking up to this - especially not alcohol. I lay there for a few more minutes dwelling in my misery and not really wanting to except the reason of why I felt so lousy, when I hear footsteps coming down the hall. The padding of feet in the grey carpet grew louder as they got closer to the bedroom, if my instinct was right, I'd bet on Soda.

I waited as I watched the open door, then right on cue said brother walked into our shared bedroom.

"Hey, kiddo." Soda smiled, but I could see it didn't reach his eyes - in fact the features on my older brothers face looked anything but happy, nor was he angry or upset; as he crossed the room, he looked as though he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and had more troubles weighing on his mind than anyone his age ought to. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, and carefully reached his hand out resting it on my forehead. "You feeling alright?" he asked, brushing his hand back through my hair after he'd noted my temperature was normal.

I shook my head while giving my puppy eyes, "I feel crap, Soda," I whined, "my head hurts."

"It's called a hangover, little bro. I'll get you some aspirin." He stood up and made his way to the open doorway, before exiting. I let out a tired sigh, closing my eyes for a moment while I waited for my brother to return. It didn't take anymore than a few minutes for his footsteps to be heard walking back into the room, I opened my eyes as the edge of the bed dipped under his weight again.

"Here, sit up." He grasped me firmly under my upper arm, as I wiggled up on the bed into a sitting position. I gave my brother a hesitant glance feeling somewhat suddenly nervous, remembering our little 'talk' we were yet to have, and knew my current seated position wasn't one I'd be taking pleasure in for quite some time... hell if it's anything like last time, it'll become only a distant memory.

He noticed my uneasiness, and placed a comforting hand on the back of my hand as his other hand continued to grasp the glass of water and pills. "Look at me, kiddo," he waited until my eyes met his before continuing, "Listen, you know I'd never hurt you, right?" I nodded slowly, as he took a breath, and rubbed his thumb lightly on my hand. "I'd never hurt you, kiddo, I'd rather cut my own right arm off then hurt you. But if you do something that involves putting yourself in danger, or disobeying our rules that Darry and I have set to keep you safe, like you did last night. Do you think that should go unpunished?"

I shook my head, as tears began to form blurring my vision slightly.

"That's right, it shouldn't. Like I said I'd never hurt you, ok. So I don't want you getting over worked up about this, and making yourself sick; you know I'd do anything for you, and if that means handing out a spanking once in a while to keep you safe, and from doing things you've been told not to, then that's what I'll do." His eyes studied me, as a few tears slipped down my cheeks. He removed his hand from mine and gently brushed my tears away with his forefinger. "Now I want you to take the aspirin and then we'll talk." He placed the pills in the palm of my hand, I tipped them into my mouth washing them down with the glass of water. He placed the quarter full glass on the bedside table, before turning back to me.

"What were you doing at the party in the first place?"

What a way to jump in on the lecture; he didn't give me a chance to regain everything from before the party, just straight to the reason of why I was there... though, I couldn't help think back to the party - Sodapop would have been so proud, his baby brother, grown up, with his first actual kiss from a girl - if he weren't so mad. I'm sure I'll never see the sign of daylight again, or step foot so much as off the wooden front door frame - once his through with me.

"I got invited." I answered shortly. It's not like I just rocked up there uninvited.

"By who?" he questioned, while watching me intently.

"By some of Annette's friends after I took off."

"Ok, and where did you meet-" he paused sighing heavily, and washed a heavy hand down his face. "You know what, maybe we'll start from the beginning. Why did you take off?" he questioned instead.

I dropped my eyes down to the quilt cover. "I don't know." I answered quietly.

"I think you do, Ponyboy." Soda held a firm tone. I chanced a glance, to meet his eyes and noticed his eyes hadn't left me.

I dropped my eyes back to the bed, fiddling with a loose thread on the quilt. "I thought you'd be mad, after you know..." I trailed off not wanting to finish that thought.

I saw him nod in understanding, "After you realised it might've been a bad idea to bathe your older brother in dish water."

I chewed my lower lip, guiltily. "I'm sorry, Soda." I whispered.

He placed his index and middle fingers under my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. "After you took off you were invited to that party, right?"

I nodded, watching for his next question.

"Why did you go?"

I hadn't really thought about that one, it was pretty much a haste of the moment thing. I just happened to run into two amazingly hot girls... actually it was the other way round, they ran to me - got invited to a party and voila; then I remembered the main reason behind it. They had told me Annette would be there... and boy was she there alright, cherry lipgloss an' all.

"You remember Annette from the night of the races, and the number?"

"Yeah, I saw her at the party, kiddo. She's sure a looker, but also a bad influence on you-" I interrupted him right there, how was she a bad influence? My brother didn't know what he was talking about, we had a great night... _I_ had a great night, well apart from the vomiting, but before that it had been good.

"No she's not, she's-" he shot me a warning look that shut me right up.

"She is Ponyboy, and I'll tell you why. First off I can see parties to that extent are a regular thing for her, nothing there fazed her one bit cause she's seen it all an' done it all. That girl was so far drunk an' high I'd be surprised if she remembers anything from the night at all, and I have no doubt your drinking and little drug episode was also a part of her doing."

"No it wasn't," I argued before I thought about it.

"Wasn't hey?" He nudged my chin, with his fingers that were under it. "Look at me," he commanded firmly. "First we'll start with, who gave you the beer?"

I could see his eyes boring right into mine, reading if I'm lying or not. "Curly gave me two and I got the rest myself." I answered honestly.

"Curly?"

"Yeah, I met him on the way and he came with me."

"Ponyboy," he growled, "is there anything else your leaving out, anything else I should know about before we continue?" his tone was stern.

I shook my head. He watched me for a minute before moving on.

"Who gave you the Whiskey?"

"Look at me," he warned, as I dropped my eyes from his turning them to my right. I looked back to my brother, swallowing hard. Annette had given me the Whiskey and I didn't want her to get into trouble, so I lied and prayed he couldn't read me too well.

"No one, I got it." I said, trying to keep my voice even, but almost as soon as my answer left my mouth I felt a hard slap to my left thigh.

"Oww," I yelped, as tears sprang to my eyes and brought my hand down to rub my stinging thigh.

"Well then, don't lie. Who gave it to you, did Annette?"

I nodded giving him my puppy eyes, and my lip protruding in a pout.

"And I'm guessing she gave you the cocaine too?"

"No Soda, she didn't know what she was doing," I tried to reason quickly, "She was too drunk, some guy told her to have some then she put some on her fingers and put it on the roof of my mouth and under my tongue. I remember it making my mouth really numb." I finished with a questioning look, wondering if he knew why.

He shook his head, "I've never done it before, kiddo, and I won't either." He said, giving me a firm look, "So you let her put it in your mouth?"

"Yeah, but I was damn well drunk remember." That earned me another slap to my thigh. "Oww, Soda."

"Watch your mouth," he warned. "And you shouldn't have been drunk, you shouldn't have even been at that party to begin with." He dropped his hand from underneath my chin, "Let's gets this over with."

I froze in my spot, wide eyed as Soda reached down to unbuckle his belt.

"Your not... your not gonna use that are you?" I stammered, watching as he pulled the leather belt from the belt loops on his jeans, once he had the belt fully removed he lay the one and a half inch wide strip of leather beside him on the bed.

"Yeah, I am, kiddo; you've earned this," he said calmly, "Now, pants down and over my knee."

I gave him one last glance, seeing he was serious about this and felt my face pale slightly. I pushed myself up to kneel on my knees as I slowly slid my sleep pants down letting them drop at knee level, as they pooled around on top of the quilt cover.

"Please, Soda... don't do this." But my plea fell on deaf ears as he grabbed me under my upper arm, and guided me across his lap. "Soda... please," I pleaded again, as I felt his arm lock around my waist. Without another word, he let his right hand fall with a loud slap on my upturned bottom.

I yelped as the tingling heat spread across the lower curve of my right cheek, but he didn't give me more than a moment to process the pain as he painted my left cheek with a hard slap to match my right.

His hand feel across my right cheek again, with a loud crack.

"Oww, Soda, stop... that hurts."

"It's suppose to hurt, kiddo. It wouldn't be much of a punishment if it didn't." He admonished, then followed it with another loud smack.

He continued to rain the smacks down alternating between my left and then my right butt cheek for a few good minutes, before I felt him halt in between smacks and his thumbs hook into the waistband of my boxers.

"No, please Soda." I panicked, "Not like this, please Soda... not on the bare." He slid my navy boxers down past my thighs and down the length of my legs to meet my pyjama bottoms. I struggled across his knees, in an attempt to falter him for me to make my escape. But my futile attempt at get away diminished as Soda increased his grip around my waist and brought one of his legs forth and placing it across my struggling ones, pinning me successfully in place.

Then he resumed the spanking, bringing his hand down hard and fast but only this time on my already burning exposed skin. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore, as my sobs increased. I felt his body shuffle from underneath me, and his knee rise, with me tilting forwards a little. I knew exactly what his intentions were, as my sit spots were now in prime position for his hand to have full access to.

"No... no Soda..." I sobbed, trying to buck myself off his knees; but the result was pointless as he kept me pinned down. He wasted no time once he was satisfied with my posture, and brought his hand down sharp on the crease between my backside and thigh.

"Ahh..." I screamed, at the burning throb on sensitive bare flesh and grabbed at the quilt cover that lay helplessly under the upper half of my body, scrunching the fabric in white knuckled fists. He smacked his hard hand down on my left side, matching the throbbing burn of the right, then let his hand fall lower with a stinging smack to my thigh. He was working in a pattern, left thigh, right thigh, left crease, right crease - but also mixing it up in between, just so I didn't know where the next smack would fall. I let my body go limp across his knees as my sobs increased to full on howls.

It suddenly came to me Soda was no longer wailing away on my backside, with his hand on my back instead brushing soothing strokes along it.

"Shh, calm down, kiddo. Where almost done."

Almost done? I didn't think my butt could possibly take anymore, it already felt like a red hot furnace. I felt Soda reach for something, then remembered the belt. If my struggling had been fierce before, I was almost inconsolable now. He really had to use all his strength to hold me down now.

"No... no, please Soda. Not... not that, please; I've learned... my... my lesson." I begged, as harsh sobs broke in between my desperate pleas.

"What have you learned, kiddo?" he asked, rubbing my back.

"Not... not go to... to... parties." I choked out between sobs.

"Until your sixteen at least, but even then we'll still need to know - where, when, and who," he stated firmly, "And Ponyboy, am I ever gonna catch you with beer, or any alcohol for that matter, again?"

"N-no Soda."

"Good... alright, kiddo. It's alright, calm down," he soothed, trying to calm me before he continued further with the punishment. He waited until my sobs turned into controlled crying before he spoke.

"Alright, this next part is for taking drugs. You'll be getting 14 licks of my belt, one for each year your alive." he said, as he folded the belt in half, gripping it tightly in his right hand.

"No, Soda... please, don't use that. I swear I won't ever do it again." I hitched back an oncoming sob, as he raised the belt bringing it down on my upturned bottom with a loud crack.

The line of fire that coursed across my already burning backside was too much and I couldn't hold back the scream that escaped my throat. Without a moments hesitation the next stripe was delivered directly below the first. He continued in the same path working his way down to the crease below where my buttocks ended. My whole backside felt like it had been engulfed with flames.

"I'm sorry, Soda." I sobbed loudly, "I won't do it... I won't do it again..." My words came out in broken sobs.

The leather whistled down again, but this time connecting solidly with the back of my thighs. I pressed my face into the quilt cover as my hands hadn't let up their death grip on the now sweat soaked material, my deep sobs were mixed with broken screams every time the belt slammed down.

Soda laid down a few more stripes across my thighs before stopping and laying the belt down on the bed next to him. He carefully pulled my boxers and sleep pants back up and then rested his hand on my back, rubbing soothing circles.

"It's alright now, kiddo. It's over." I heard the break in his voice as he spoke, as well as the sniffle at the end.

I stayed limply across his lap sobbing openly with my behind feeling like it'd been roasted by a red-hot iron, that held a deep throbbing just below the surface. Soda rubbed my back for a minute more before pulling me up and onto his lap. I buried my face in his white t-shirt - my tears soaking through the thin cotton - and bunched up a fistful of his navy over-shirt in my hands as I sobbed against him, he wrapped his arms around me and soothingly caressed my back again.

"Shh, it's alright, baby..." Soda softly crooned, "It's alright, everything's ok now." He murmured as he rocked me gently.

Soda continued to hold and comfort me, rubbing my back until my sobs subsided to light snivelling and shuddering breathes. I slowly closed my eyes exhausted from crying and the event that had just taken place, and felt myself relax and sink further into Soda's warm embrace.

"C'mon, kiddo. Let's get you in bed."

Soda helped me from his lap, then stood up pulling the bed covers back. I gingerly climbed in being careful of my sore backside and lie down on my stomach, he covered me up then climbed in the other side scooting close to me. I reached my hands back, wincing as I placed them on my burning posterior and tried rubbing the sting out.

Soda took my hands carefully in his, "No rubbing, kiddo," he admonished gently, as my bottom lip protruded into a pout. I knew rubbing wouldn't take the sting away, and that I'd be feeling the after effects for the next couple of days; but anything to help ease my mind.

He wrapped me in a tight hug pulling me into him, I placed my head on his chest using it as a pillow feeling the still dampness from my tears on his t-shirt. His fingers ran soothingly up and down across my back making me relax, and feeling my eyelids grow heavy.

"Shh... close your eyes, baby," he whispered from above me, and felt him place a soft kiss to the top of my hair. I could feel myself drifting into sleep as Soda continued whispering to me in a soothing tone.

"Soda?" I called him softly.

"Yeah, honey?" He whispered.

"I'm so sorry, Soda. I promise I'll never do it again."

"I know you are baby, now try get some rest." He said, stroking his hand through my hair.

"Soda?"

"Hmm..."

"You... you still love me, don't you?" I whispered softly. I knew in my heart that he did, and if anything - couldn't doubt that he didn't love me for a second. But after all I'd put my brothers through, I needed that reassurance as though it were a safety net - and needed to hear him say it - to put my mind at ease, if nothing else.

"Of course I do, kiddo. Your my little brother, why would you say that?"

"Just after all the stuff I've done lately, I wasn't sure... that maybe you'd-"

He didn't let me finish, before cutting me off, "Listen, you know you never need to question my love for you, no matter what you do kiddo, it'll never change. Now, shut up and go to sleep," he said gently, as he continued to stoke my hair.

"I love you too, Soda." I said softly, feeling my eyelids getting heavy.

"I know, kiddo," he whispered.

His gentle and soothing touch finally put me to sleep.

...

Bella Lilac


	26. Family, Nothing Else Matters

I didn't know if it was morning or night, but someone was trying to bring me back to the living. They gave my upper arm another rough shake, as I gave an almost audible groan and rolled my body to my stomach, burying my arms beneath my chest and away from the intruder. As I felt myself slipping back into sleep, a large pair of hands wrapped over my back giving another rough shake to my upper body, I gave, somewhere between a tired and grumpy groan at being disturbed and slowly blinked opened my eyes to see Darry's tall frame leaning over the bed, still clad in his work clothes. As my eyes adjusted to the rooms light - I realised it was still daytime, presumably late afternoon. But as I looked to Darry, I couldn't help to notice the slight crease of concern across his features.

"Hey kiddo, how long you been sleepin' for?" he asked, with the concern shown lacing his voice. He leaned further over the bed and placed his large calloused hand back side down across my forehead, feeling my temperature, then moved it to my cheek resting it there for a few moments. What Darry didn't know - and hopefully won't find out, for my sake - was it wasn't my head that was burning, but my backside. Soda definitely left me a spoken message there, and let it sink in real good. The burn hadn't lessened in the slightest.

"I dunno... what time is it?" I asked through a yawn and rubbed at my eyes.

"It's twenty past five, kiddo." He answered, moving his hand from my cheek and straightening back up. With all of his six-feet-two towering over the bed once again.

"Shit," it slipped from my mouth before I could catch myself. I hadn't realised I'd slept that long, the day had slipped by and I'd been dead to the world to have known. I was mostly annoyed at myself, and maybe a little at Soda. But mostly at myself. If I hadn't taken off yesterday, none of this would have happened, and today wouldn't have been a complete waste. But I suppose I needed the rest after Soda's little 'talk' this morning.

Though as I should have known - more than most - my slip up curse didn't go unheard by my oldest brother. I felt a sharp swat to my backside, even through the bed covers, and yelped as the single handed swat ignited the fierce burning in my rather sore rear again.

"You watch your language, Ponyboy," he warned, "or I'll wash your mouth with soap." He threatened. That was something neither of my brothers had ever resorted to, soaping my mouth. Sure there were the occasional threats, like now. But neither had ever gone through with it. How spanking was okay, and soap wasn't, puzzled me.

He folded his arms across his broad chest, as the muscles stretched out the tight black t-shirt. "And don't think I won't go through with it. I know Dally was a good buddy, but I won't have you talking no filth. So just wise up, ya hear?" he finished.

Dally was a good buddy, but he could also come up with a string of curses, that'd make the next man blush. Darry and I both knew where I'd picked up most of my bad language, but it wasn't only Dally, Curly was just as much to blame.

I looked at him, nodding. "Sure, Darry. I'm sorry. Next time I'll try watch what I say."

He studied me a moment, then gave a simple nod. "Well you don't have a fever, so I suggest you get up. Make use of the evening. I'm gonna make a start on dinner." He turned and made his way out the door, with his heavy footsteps growing quieter the further he got down the hall.

I turned my head over on my pillow to find the spot on the bed behind me empty. Soda was no longer sleeping and the sheet where he'd been had gone long cold. Maybe he was in the lounge or kitchen, I thought. But I would have heard him, there's no way Soda can be that quite. Then I remembered he had work, and probably left not long after I had fallen asleep.

I waited a moment more, before reluctantly pulling myself from my nice warm bed and wandered into the lounge making myself comfortable on the couch instead, I spread my long legs out on the three seater with my head occupying a cushion at the other end. The television wasn't playing much other than the news, as that's the channel Darry had left it on, and I wasn't about to get up to change it.

"Ponyboy?" Darry called from the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"Com'er a minute."

Grumbling, I slid up from the couch, after only having gotten comfy again. And trudged into the kitchen to see what Darry wanted.

"Yeah, Darry?" I asked. Darry had his head in the pantry, but turned when I walked in. I headed straight for the fridge. I hadn't realised how dry my mouth was, until now. But sleeping all day certainly makes you thirsty.

"What do you want for dinner? Chicken or meatloaf?"

I turned my search from the open fridge to Darry, giving him an incredulous look. "Couldn't you have asked me that from out there?" I asked, trying hold the attitude, and turned back to pull a Pepsi from the half full carton in the fridge.

Darry shot me a warning look, having caught the attitude; I turned my eyes away, and kept my mouth shut, as I popped the tab on the can. Taking a mouthful from the can instead, and made my way back towards the kitchen door.

"You didn't answer what you want?"

"Chickens fine." It didn't matter what we have. I knew I wouldn't be sitting down to eat it anyway. As I settled myself into the lounge cushions again, in the position I had been before; the front screen door opened from the right of the couch, then slammed closed.

"Hey Curtis', have no fear Two-Bit's here." Two-Bit sang in a cheerful voice, and stopped in front the couch as he tilted his beer bottle, taking a swig.

"Hey, kid. Where is everyone?" he questioned with a raised brow, then without so much as a warning he plonked his ass down on the back of my legs, and shuffled his butt side to side to make a point of getting comfortable.

"Ahh... Two-Bit. Get your smelly butt off me." But rather than answering, he lazed back into the head rest, stretching his left arm up and rested the hand behind his head, and raised his hand that occupied the beer, taking a long drink from the bottle. He didn't look to be moving anytime soon.

"Two-Bit," I whined, "If I answer your question, will you move then?"

He looked like he was trying to think about the answer - it was either a simple, yes or no, question - but he looked like he was hard in thought.

"Ok." He replied simply.

I rolled my eyes, before answering, "Darry's in the kitchen, and Soda and Steve are at work. There you happy? Now move."

He wiggled his butt side to side, but stayed where he was. "There I moved." He exclaimed, with a huge grin; sounding quite proud of himself.

"Two-Bit!" I whined again, giving him an annoyed look. But gave up on trying to get him to move and just stayed there with him sitting on me, as we watched the news lady give a full report of a robbery in Colorado.

"Dinners ready." Darry called from the kitchen.

_Crap_... There was no way I was gonna be able to hide my sore behind from Darry, let alone sit still in one of those hard kitchen chairs. I racked my brain for an excuse that I hoped would be plausible enough, that Darry would buy - but the best I could come up with was, not being hungry, and tired still - and mentally kicked myself for not being able to come up with something better, but that'd have to do. I _knew_ for a fact, that if Darry ever found out, he'd make Soda's handiwork feel like a walk in the park...

Well at least one good thing came of that; as soon as the word food was mentioned Two-Bit was up and into the kitchen faster than a jack rabbit. I stretched my legs out feeling the blood circulate again from Two-Bit sitting on them. I noticed Darry's tall frame take up the wooden doorway of the kitchen.

"C'mon, Pony. Before Two-Bit eats it all."

"Darry, I'm not really hungry. I'm still tired, can I stay here?" I tried to put my drowsy act on, and faked a tired yawn.

Darry's expression grew concerned, as he crossed the lounge to where I lay.

"I hope your not comin' down with somethin', kiddo." He pressed his hand against my forehead again, leaving it there for a second.

"You don't have a temperature. Just get some rest, alright. I'll bring your plate in, I'd like you to try eat something." With that he made his way back to the kitchen. Not even a moment later, he came in with a plate and placed it on the coffee table directly in front of me.

"Try an' eat what you can, kiddo." He gave me one last hesitant look, before leaving to join Two-Bit at the table.

I leaned over the side of the couch being careful of my sore bottom, and picked up the fork Darry had left on the edge of my plate. I stabbed a piece of chicken with the fork prongs, and placed it in my mouth - feeling the tender poultry melt in my mouth - Darry always cooks the chicken till it's tender and juicy, then removes it from the oven before it gets even a hint dry.

I left a quarter of my dinner sitting on the white china; that held a finely drawn pattern around the rim, finished with shades of greens and oranges. I would have eaten it all, but knew that to fool Darry I had to leave my plate unfinished. I pushed the remaining vegetables around on my plate, making it seem more then there really is, then pushed the plate aside. I settled back on the couch, and sprawled out on my stomach again.

My ears pricked up as I heard some noise coming from outside, and recognised Soda and Steve's voices. They were still talking as I heard their heavy footsteps coming up the porch steps.

"Just ask her out man." Steve was saying.

"I said I'll think about it. I'm not sure if I'm ready for another relationship right now Steve, it's only been a couple of months since Sandy left." Soda answered him.

Sandy, I thought. Soda had been a complete mess after she up an' left him and moved away to Florida. Darry had told me that one night; the night Soda received the returned letter, the night he bolted outta the house, the night we chased him clear to the park. I'd never forgive Sandy for what she did to my brother. For how much she hurt him...

"I know man, but you need to move on sometime and you've got to admit she was kinda hot for you." I heard Steve say.

"Like I said, I'll think about it." But as the screen door opened, the conversation stopped. Soda walked in kicking off his shoes, seeing me on the couch.

"Hey, kiddo." Soda grinned, pulling his DX cap off, and ran his hand through his hair; making his hair resemble a porcupine, then unsuccessfully tried to smooth it back down.

"Hey Soda, how was work?" I asked, watching as Steve continued for the kitchen.

"Yeah, it was busy. I think everyone decided they needed gas at the last minute," he took a couple steps, moving closer to me, "Hey, you alright, kiddo?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

I nodded, glancing my eyes up at him.

He grinned, "Your a good kid, Pony," he said affectionately, before making his way into the kitchen to join the other boys.

"Hey, Dar." I heard Soda say.

"Hey, Steve was just saying you guys were run off your feet come closing?"

"Yeah, everyone was getting gas like it was goin' outta fashion."

"Speakin' of work, did Ponyboy seem okay before you left?"

At the mention of my name, my ears perked up. I turned my vision in the direction of the kitchen door, and slowed my breathing to hear the conversation from the kitchen more clearly. My heart was pumping in slow thumps, and I was slightly nervous. I knew Soda wasn't the type to rat, especially on his own kid brother - but I still needed to hear his answer, to be sure.

"Ahh... yeah, he seemed fine. Why?"

"He was asleep when I got home. I woke him a little under an hour ago, but I think he may have been out for awhile. He said he wasn't hungry before and still tired, he doesn't have a fever or anything. Did he touch his dinner?"

"Yeah, I'll go check on him."

Soda's footsteps returned coming into the lounge, with his long legs stopping in my view of the television set; I hesitantly followed my eyes up his legs, past his arms he had folded across his chest and up to meet his eyes, which held a firm glance at me. He crouched down in front of me, resting a hand on the sofa cushion, as he brought his other hand towards me placing it directly across my forehead like Darry had done earlier.

"Soda, I'm not sick." I hissed loud enough for his ears only, and batted his hand away. "I just wasn't hungry."

He glanced over his shoulder at my half attempted effort of making my plate look like less had been eaten, then there really had been - with my display of scattered vegetables across my plate.

"Well, you look like you did a pretty good job for not being hungry there, kiddo." His eyes flashed back to me again, as he leaned closer and kept his voice low so Darry wouldn't hear. "I figured it was more to do with the fact that your too sore to sit and you don't want Darry finding out." He shot me that knowing look, with a raised eyebrow.

I can't fool, Soda... I can never fool, Soda. Sure his the one that tanned me, but even if he hadn't, he still would have know. Soda can read me as easily as an open book, and knows the moment I'm not being truthful.

I slowly chewed on my lower lip, hoping he won't tell Darry. And hoping even more that I wasn't gonna be in more trouble for lying to Darry.

He quickly put my worrying thoughts aside, as he reassured me. "Don't worry, I ain't gonna say nothin'," he whispered, running his fingers through my un-greased hair. I gave him a small smile to say thanks.

"Alright, kiddo," he flashed me a Sodapop grin, as he stood up. "Well, I'm gonna go grab some dinner, I'm starving."

After he rounded the wooden doorframe, my eyes fell back on the flickering TV in front of me; but the moving picture went unseen as I stared blankly at the screen.

Not even ten minutes later the rowdiness of the guys came as they re-entered the lounge. Steve and Two-Bit pulled playful punches at one another as Soda crossed over to the couch, he carefully lifted my legs and slid onto the cushion, replacing my legs in his lap. Two-Bit on the other hand blatantly pulled me off the couch; he grabbed my bicep on one arm and above my wrist on the other and pulled me onto the floor. I felt Soda's hand on the back of my shirt, to stop my fall, but his attempt at saving me wasn't quick enough.

"Two-Bit!" I scowled, as he grinned.

"Oh, look... the couches free, the kids not hogging it anymore." Two-Bit pointed his forefinger to my now empty spot, feigning mock surprise.

I rolled my eyes.

"Well, it's my house. I'm aloud to hog it if I want." I said, from my position on the floor.

Soda leaned down and grabbed a hold under my arm, hurling me up onto the couch. Rather than lying down, I curled my legs under me and leaned into the safety of Soda's chest - knowing Two-Bit won't touch me here - as Soda wrapped his arms around me. Steve ended up taking the other end of the couch, whereas Two-Bit plastered his butt to the rug on the floor, using the couch as a backrest - not even bothering with sitting on the couch.

Over an hour passed with us unmoving from our spots, as we watched nothing in particular - it wasn't anymore than the weekly sitcom that aired after the news - and come to think of it, it's not a show we'd bother switching on, than sitting together to watch. But as I tilted my head to look up at Soda; his warm brown eyes dropped to mine with a smile that reached his eyes, as his bitten-down nails continued to caress the bare skin of my hand to my elbow, leaving small goosebumps in it's wake.

I glanced at the other two guys, that I considered as family; Two-Bit was sprawled out with his legs in a V shape, one hand resting behind his head as he laughed along with the real-life American sitcom. Steve rested an elbow on the arm of the couch, with his cheek resting a top his balled up fist, laughing along with Two-Bit at all the right spots.

And for the first time I realised, that whichever show had been playing at this very moment, wouldn't have mattered; I think... no, I'm certain it was more to the fact we were just content with one another's company.

I felt my eyelids grow heavy and leaned further into Soda, as I stared at the screen - with them closing every few moments - I tried my hardest to stay awake, but it was a fighting battle, and soon my eyelids won. I drifted into a half sleep, hearing the television as if far away, along with the solid pounding of Soda's heart beat in his chest.

Hours felt like it had passed when I felt someone gently shake me.

"C'mon, kiddo. Wake up." I moaned sleepily, as I felt Soda shifting from underneath me, "Bedtime for you." I let him pull me up from the couch, and felt strong arms secure around me; as he lead me to our shared room, I couldn't help but think everything would turn out alright... it always did in the end, right?

No matter how many times I end up on the receiving end of the belt, or grounded to the house - I knew that's not what mattered - what mattered most was having my brothers through thick and thin, and that the three of us stuck together - cause in the end we're all we've got.

Soda's hold on me never faltered as he pulled back the covers on our unmade double bed, and I slid in under the warm quilts. As Soda carefully worked his way under the covers on his side, and pulling me into his protective embrace - with my back against his chest, and his chin resting above my hair - I knew my thoughts were in the right place this time... that nothing else did matter - sure, sometimes life may seem unfair, but in all reality it's only as unfair as you make it.

THE END

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...

A/N - Well that's it everyone, the end has finally come. Thank you so much to all my readers, and everyone that supported me throughout this story. It certainly had its fair share of ups and downs, and rewrites, but we got through in the end. A special thanks to anyone who left a review, they mean the world to me and kept this story going. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did in writing it.

Bella Lilac Xx


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